


It's a Small World (aka the Worst Ride at Disneyland)

by ireadhpinenochian



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Creature Castiel, Domestic Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Panic Attacks, Past Child Abuse, Soul Bond
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-23
Updated: 2015-11-23
Packaged: 2018-05-02 19:32:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 45,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5260916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ireadhpinenochian/pseuds/ireadhpinenochian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean's life didn't start out great. With his mom dying and his father taking him and Sam on wild goose chase after wilder goose chase to track down her killer until Sam couldn't take it anymore and ran off, it pretty much sucked. But now he has Cas. And Cas is great--perfect, even--definitely the best thing that's ever happened to him, even if he isn't quite human. He's been living so long in domestic bliss that he completely forgot to be worried about waiting for the other shoe to drop. Which is, of course, when his giant of a brother strolls back into his life sending Dean into a panic that he and Cas will have to uproot their perfect apple pie life if Sam finds out Cas' big secret.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Five Years Ago

**Author's Note:**

> Here is my first DCBB! I want to give a huge shout out to my AMAZING artist, [ambersagan](http://ambersagen.tumblr.com), who not only made some fantastic and adorable artwork, beta'd the thing, too! And another shout out to [sunriseinside](http://sunriseinside.tumblr.com), who's the one that got me writing fic in the first place!  
> Anyway, I hope you enjoy! I had a great time writing about Dean and Cas being sickeningly cute and in love, so I hope you enjoy reading it!

Dean and Cas were meant for each other. They had known it immediately upon first laying eyes on the other, though Cas was the only one that admitted it in the beginning.

The story they told everyone about how they met went a little something like this:

Dean was drinking in a bar one night. Cas just happened to be there, although he rarely went to such places. He saw Dean at the bar and went up and offered to buy him a drink. (Now, this is all true so far, but the rest of the story is a bit of a fabrication.) Dean accepted the drink and the two of them talked all night long until the bar closed, at which point they found an all-night diner and shared a pie. The flavor of the pie varied with the telling, but no one ever commented, chalking it up to Dean and Cas being too infatuated with each other to remember such an extraneous detail. (Dean would never forget a pie. Nor would he ever categorize it as an extraneous detail. As far as he was concerned, pie was the star of any story no matter how small a role it actually played.) After the pie they left the diner and watched the sunrise.

That’s usually where they stop the story, their audience thoroughly convinced that Dean and Cas were very much in love by that point and not needing to hear any more.

In reality, their first meeting went a little differently.

\--

Dean was sitting at the bar. Had been for the past couple of hours and the bartender he was ordering from was getting more and more blurry by the minute. He thinks he remembers her being hot, but now she was just a spinning mixture of blonde hair, bright lips, and the cheesy bar logo of a leprechaun on her shirt. She was probably new because he should have been cut off at least three drinks ago. Then again, he wasn’t acting rowdy or anything. He was just sitting there quietly, slowly poisoning his liver and wishing it would hurry up and kill him. Maybe. Not really. He didn’t want to die, he just didn’t want the life he had. Well, he wouldn’t mind the life he had yesterday. That life had been alright. Not great, but alright.

The world got a little fuzzier and he refused to admit it was because his eyes were now shining with unshed tears. He just chalked it up to being the drunkest he had ever been in his life. Which was true.

He was so drunk he didn’t even notice his soul reaching out and finding another, not that he would have really known what was happening. He may, however, have been slightly more amenable to the dark haired man walking with purpose towards the empty stool next to him.

\--

Honestly, Castiel had given up hope that this would ever happen. Most of his family had already made connections and passed on long ago, and those that were left were unwilling to do so. His cousin, Balthazar, for example, had had the opportunity at least three times now and refused each one. Castiel had always been somewhat bitterly jealous about that, but all of those thoughts and feelings were banished from his mind as he took a seat next to the young man nursing a whiskey.

Castiel tugged on the bond he already felt forming between them, but the young man remained stationary, staring down into his drink. Human, then. It wasn’t unusual for his kind to find their mates in humanity, but Castiel had hoped that his mate would have been the type to recognize a bond when it formed. But now Castiel had to rely on his rather lackluster “people skills.”

He cleared his throat, but the man made no indication that he had heard. Castiel sighed and tapped his fingers along the bar, trying to think of what to do next. He shuddered as he thought the phrase _what would Balthazar do?_ Because surely that’s a concept he never suspected he’d take seriously, but the fact was that Balthazar definitely knew how to attract people.

“May I buy you a drink?” he finally asked, his voice even lower than its usual timber from his nerves.

The man seemed to flinch at Castiel’s words before looking over at him and squinting. “Huh? You talkin’ t’ me?” he slurred.

“Oh, um, yes,” Castiel replied. “I was wondering if you would allow me to buy your next drink…” Castiel rubbed the back of his neck, a nervous tick he acquired only in the most stressful of situations.

The man blinked a few times, as if trying to adequately judge Castiel’s appearance. Apparently he didn’t like what he saw because he shook his head and went back to staring into his glass.

Castiel felt his heart drop to the soles of his shoes. What was he supposed to do now? Couldn’t the man feel their connection? Perhaps… perhaps Castiel was mistaken? Maybe he wanted a connection so badly that he convinced himself to feel one? Although, even the thought of that sounded insane. He couldn’t just will his soul into finding its mate and connecting to it. The bond was still very much there. The man’s soul was willing, even if he himself was not. But he had been slurring his speech, so perhaps it was just alcohol that was barring their connection.

Castiel ruminated on his thoughts until the man next to him, his mate, began shaking in what Castiel was horrified to realize were suppressed sobs.

“Are you alright?” he asked, realizing as the words came out how stupid they sounded. Of course he wasn’t alright.

The man slumped forward and covered his face with one of his hands, small whimpering sounds now coming from him, albeit muffled.

“Please,” Castiel said. “Please don’t…” He put a hand out and attempted to comfort the man physically, but the man flinched away so hard he nearly fell off of his stool. Castiel immediately put his hands up in surrender. “I’m sorry,” he said immediately. “I didn’t mean to do anything to make you uncomfortable.”

The man shifted and Castiel realized that he had one arm in a makeshift sling that looked like it was made from a torn shirt. Castiel had been so preoccupied with the state of their newly formed bond he hadn’t even bothered to look at the physical attributes of his mate. And although he was gorgeous, Castiel felt himself unable to look away from the dark purple bruising covering one of his eyes.

Castiel wanted to demand to know what happened, a fierce protectiveness he never knew he possessed flaring up inside of himself. He wanted to find the perpetrator and—he cut off that line of thinking quickly. It would do nothing to remedy the situation at hand.

But he still didn’t know what to do.

\--

Oh god, Dean was pathetic. He was crying in the middle of a bar. Actual tears were coming out of his eyes. Sounds he would never admit to making were coming out of his mouth in front of a hot guy. (Well, he thinks he’s hot. Dean can’t really see straight, but the dark haired dude sitting next to him had a sexy as fuck voice, so he had to be hot, too, right?) And the hot guy was interested in him. At least, he’s pretty sure that the dude asked to buy him a drink. If Dean wasn’t so pathetic he may have accepted. It’s not like his dad was here to judge. Maybe he should have said yes. There was something oddly comforting about the complete stranger that was probably hot sitting next to him. He should have said yes and then they could have had a drink and then maybe they could have had the apple pie life together like he never let himself dream about. He could still hunt, but he wouldn’t have to, and things could have been okay. He would have been so happy, probably, and maybe if he proved he could have a life like that then Sammy would come back and they could live an apple pie life together. Not like _together_ together, but like next door neighbors together and it all could have happened except he turned down the perfectly nice stranger sitting next to him and there was no possible way to salvage this situation because now Dean was crying _harder_ and oh god, _why couldn’t he stop crying_?

The hot guy sitting next to him raised a hand and Dean flinched automatically, almost unseating himself. Dean felt unbearably stupid when the man stuck his hands up in surrender. The guy was probably just trying to signal the bartender.

“I’m sorry,” the man apologized. “I didn’t mean to do anything to make you uncomfortable.”

Dean shifted in embarrassment. Of course this dude was like the nicest, most conscientious guy ever. “S’alright,” he slurred. “S’okay.”

“How about we start over?” the man asked. “My name is Castiel.”

Dean’s alcohol addled brain didn’t even attempt to process that mouthful in its entirety. “’M Dean,” he replied.

“Dean,” the man—Cas as Dean was now referring to him in his head since he’d already forgotten the rest—said. “It is a very great pleasure to meet you.”

Dean didn’t know why Cas would think that, Dean was hardly good company right now, but he couldn’t help but to agree with the sentiment since a warmth was spreading through him just from Cas’ shy smile. 


	2. Chapter 2

“Dean?”

The voice stopped Dean cold where he was checking out the chip selection, trying to decide between Cool Ranch or Nacho Cheese Doritos. He dropped both bags into his cart and straightened his back.

“Oh my god, it is you.”

That voice. Dean was afraid to turn around in case he was wrong. Or maybe he was just afraid since he didn’t exactly know what he would do if he was right.

“Dean!”

A hand on his shoulder forced him to turn and come eye to eye (more like eye to nose, if he’s being honest) with his kid brother. Who had apparently grown another foot since the last time Dean had seen him. Before Dean had completely registered exactly what was happening he was being crushed in a hug so tight that the fact that he had forgotten to keep breathing became a moot point.

“Oh my god, I can’t believe you’re here!”

Sam was holding him out at arm’s length now, drinking in the sight of him.

Dean was still standing, frozen and staring. Honestly, he hadn’t thought he would ever get this chance again. To see Sammy up close, speak to him, just to be with him again. It was something he thought he’d only be able to dream about.

So really, it came as a shock to the both of them when Dean stepped nimbly out of his brother’s grip and, abandoning his half full grocery cart in the snack aisle, left without a word.

He reverently ran his hands over the steering wheel of the impala to ground himself before starting her up and backing out of his expertly chosen parking spot. He sped out of the parking lot, Sam in the rearview mirror, thankfully too far away to make out his exact expression.

What the hell was Sam doing here? It’s not like Dean staked out a city for himself and didn’t want anyone coming into his clubhouse without his permission, it was just… Well, that was sort of exactly what it was like; he just hadn’t mentioned it to anyone because as far as he knew no one knew or cared where he was. Okay, _no one_ was a little melodramatic, it was really just his dad and Sammy that he hadn’t seen in five years. But _still_. _What the hell was Sam doing here_?

He drove the whole way home in a daze. He’d be thankful he made it there in one piece once his brain finally rebooted. He’d also most likely apologize to Baby for playing so fast and loose with her well-being.

He collapsed against the front door as soon as he had it closed and took in huge, deep breaths like he was starved for oxygen. He didn’t know how long he sat like that, gasping for air, but it couldn’t have been too long since he heard footsteps and a graveled voice calling for him.

“Dean? I heard the car, did you need help with the bags— _Dean_?”

Dean blinked his eyes open, unaware that they had even been closed, and through a watery film saw the blue irises of his husband.

“Cas,” Dean said, and threw his arms out, gripping Cas by his shirt sleeves and pulling him down onto the floor with him.

Gingerly, Cas slid his arms around Dean and held him. “What happened?”

Dean made a sound somewhere between a grunt a cough, his throat not working properly enough to allow actual words to form.

“Dean,” Cas said softly. “Can you breathe with me?”

Dean realized then that the odd wheezing sound he heard beneath the roaring in his ears was his own breathing.

“Come on, Dean. You’re doing great. Just take a deep breath with me, okay?”

Dean felt Cas’ chest expand where it was pressed next to his and tried to mimic it, getting in a few choked gulps.

“That’s great, Dean. You’re doing great. Breathe with me again.”

His voice was like a soothing balm, his deep breaths a blanket over Dean’s nerves. Another five minutes and Dean was breathing normally again, the pounding rush of his heart and blood in his ears was gone, replaced instead by Cas’ smooth praise.

Dean pulled away and took one last deep breath.

“Are you alright?” Cas asked him.

Dean shrugged. “I think so.”

Cas brought a hand up and cupped Dean’s cheek. “Can you tell me what happened?”

“I—“ What did happen exactly? He saw his brother and flipped the fuck out? “I don’t—“

“It’s okay,” Cas said quickly, probably suspecting another panic attack was coming. “You don’t have to talk about it.”

“No,” Dean said. “It’s not that, it’s just…” He sighed. “I saw… Sammy was at the grocery store.”

“What?” Cas asked. “Your brother?”

Dean nodded. “Yeah.”

“But why—“

“I don’t know,” Dean said.

“But how—“

“I don’t know.”

Cas brought his hand from Dean’s cheek to the nape of his neck. “What should we do about it?”

Dean leaned forward until their foreheads were resting together. “I don’t know,” he sighed.

“Did he see you?”

Dean nodded, his forehead rubbing against Cas’.

“Did you talk to him?”

Dean snorted. “No. He saw me and came over and gave me a hug and then I sort of, maybe ran away. Oh god,” he said. “I left the groceries there. Fuck.”

Cas just smiled. “That’s fine, Dean. We can order a pizza tonight and I can go shopping tomorrow.”

Dean lifted his head just enough to press his lips to Cas’. “I love you.”

“I know.”

Dean pulled all the way away to look at Cas’ solemn face. “I am so not Leia.”

Cas just lifted a shoulder in a shrug. “If the quote fits.”

“Asshole,” Dean grumbled before pressing another quick kiss to his lips and standing up. He wobbled a bit on shaky legs before Cas grabbed him and helped guide him into the kitchen where he sat him down at the table.

Dean spread his hands out over the light blue tablecloth, picking at coffee stain from that morning. Cas placed a glass of orange juice to strategically cover it up.

“We should get a new tablecloth,” Dean mused, taking a gulp of his drink.

Cas slid into the seat next to him. “It’s one stain, Dean. We can just wash it.”

Dean shrugged and took another sip of juice.

Silence settled between them as Dean finished his drink. He set the empty glass down a little harder than strictly necessary, but he had finally stopped shaking.

Cas reached a hand out in an attempt to comfort, but Dean brushed him off.

“What kind of pizza do you want?” Dean asked.

“Whatever you want is fine,” Cas replied in a sigh.

“Meat lovers, it is,” Dean said, pulling his phone out of his pocket and dialing. “There still beer in the fridge?”

Cas shook his head. “I can run to the corner and grab a six pack.” He stood up from the table and began walking towards the door, but Dean grabbed his sleeve and held him back.

“I’ll go grab the beer,” he said, seriously. “You are not leaving this house, not while there’s a hunter in tow—Hey, can I get an extra-large meat lovers for delivery?”

Castiel rolled his eyes and waited for Dean to finish the order so they could talk.

“Twenty minutes? Great, thanks.”

The second he hung up the phone, Cas started in on him. “I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself, Dean. I did lead a _long_ life before you. I’m sure I’ll survive an encounter with your little brother.”

“That’s not what I meant, Cas,” Dean said wearily, the sign of a conversation rehashed multiple times. “I know you can take care of yourself. There is no doubt in my mind that you are completely capable of surviving anything.”

“Good, then I will go and retrieve the beer.” But Dean still had his grip on Cas’ sleeve and wasn’t letting up. They both knew that Cas could break free quite easily, but their earlier years had taught them that only made things worse.

“Come on, Cas.”

“I will not be put under house arrest just because you’re afraid a measly human hunter can actually—“

“I’m not worried about that, Cas!” Dean shouted. “I know you can take care of yourself, alright? I _know_. But Cas, this _measly human hunter_ is my brother.”

Cas narrowed his eyes at Dean and wrenched his arm away, taking a few steps away before turning back. “Do you truly think I would do something to harm your brother?”

Dean sighed and took a step towards Cas, but Cas retreated, keeping the same distance between them. “Cas, I don’t even want you in that position—“

“Why?” he demanded. “Because you don’t trust me?”

“Damnit, Cas, of course I trust you!” Dean nearly shouted. “Fuck, after everything we’ve been through together, if you don’t think I trust you—“

“Then let me go get the beer,” Cas said.

“Cas, look,” Dean pleaded. “I’m not saying that I don’t trust you with all of this, I’m only trying to say that I like it here. I like living here and I don’t want to move and start over, okay? So of course I trust you, Cas. But if you’re found by hunters then that’s our only option.”

Cas rubbed a hand across his forehead. “Dean, he’s already seen you.”

“Yeah, well, he’s left me once, I don’t think he’ll have any problem doing it again.”

“And if he stays? If he decides he wants to try and—“

“He won’t,” Dean cut him off.

“You never told me you were psychic. You think that would be something I should know about my husband.”

Dean glared at Cas who looked back completely unruffled. It was a little unfair how Cas had mastered the ability to look calm during their fights. Dean hated it.

“Fuckin’ smartass,” Dean muttered. “You’re an asshole, you know that?”

Cas just shrugged. “May I go and get the beer now?” he asked. “I promise not to terrify random passerby with my true form and tip hunters off to my whereabouts. Even though doing so is my one true joy in life.”

Dean gritted his teeth to try and keep his lips in a straight line. He’d be damned if Cas saw him crack first. “Just go get the damn beer,” Dean said.

“Alright,” Cas said, grabbing his keys off of the table next to the door. “Call me if you get any psychic vibrations while I’m out.”

Dean smiled despite himself. “Get the hell outta here before I kick your ass,” he said, fighting his grin and losing.

Cas just smiled and gave him a quick peck. “I’ll be right back, my love.”

“Yeah, yeah, asshole,” Dean grumbled, blushing a little at the endearment despite having heard it for years now.

\--

“Dean,” Cas said later that night as they lay on their bed, too full from pizza and beer to do much more than cuddle up underneath the blanket. Although Dean would of course deny the use of the term ‘cuddling’ until his dying day.

“Hm?” Dean asked sleepily, burrowing further into Cas’ warm embrace.

“What are we going to do?”

Dean snorted. “Sleep. Too tired for sex.”

“I will forever rue the day I fell for a human with a normal, human stamina,” Cas said. Then he pinched Dean who let out a small yelp. “But that’s not what I was talking about.”

Dean groaned. “Can we not talk about this tonight? Or ever? It’ll go away on its own. Trust me.”

Silence fell between them for a few minutes, long enough for Dean to think it was safe to go to sleep.

“Do you want it to go away?” Cas asked softly.

“Course,” Dean grunted. “Told you. I like our life here. Wanna stay.”

“I’m just saying,” Cas said, choosing his words delicately. “It wasn’t that long ago that you—“

“We don’t talk about that,” Dean cut in, pulling out of Cas’ arms to sit up. “Can you please just drop this? I don’t want to talk about it, alright? Sam is going to leave town and we won’t have to worry about this again. Now drop it so I can go to sleep. I have puny human stamina, remember? I need my four hours.”

“What if he’s not going to leave, Dean?”

“Why the hell wouldn’t he?”

“Dean, think about it. Do you really think that Sam just happens to be passing through the same town you decided to settle in?”

Dean shrugged. “Why not? It’s a small world, right? There’s a whole ride at Disneyland about it.”

“Dean…”

“Look, get to the point, Cas,” Dean said. “I want to go to sleep.”

Cas sighed. “We live next to a law school, Dean. A rather prestigious one, at that. One where someone of Sam’s caliber would definitely be able to get in.”

Dean opened his mouth, closed it. Did it again before falling back onto his pillow. “Well, fuck.”

There was a moment’s pause before Cas said, “This could be good news, Dean.”

“How?” Dean asked. “We’re going to have to move. I hate moving.”

Cas reached out hesitantly and took Dean back in his arms. “We won’t have to move,” Cas told him. “We are going to stay right here. And Sam most likely is, as well.” He began to stroke Dean’s hair. “I know you miss him.”

“That doesn’t mean I get to have him back, Cas.”

“But—“

“Please,” Dean said. “I just want to sleep. We can talk about this in the morning, but babe I have to sleep.”

Cas pressed a kiss to his hair. “I just want you to be happy, my love.”

“I know, Cas,” Dean replied softly. “I know.”

\--

“Wait, wait, wait,” Jess said, pushing some blonde strands of hair behind her ear. “Your brother? Your long lost brother was at the grocery store?”

“Yeah,” Sam replied in somewhat of a daze, staring at the coffee table in front of him as if it held the secrets to the universe.

“Your long lost brother who dropped off the map five years ago _randomly_ showed up at the grocery store?”

“What, you think I hallucinated him or something?” Sam asked, looking up.

Jess shrugged and placed a steaming mug in front of him. “It’s as likely as randomly seeing your actual brother.”

Sam snorted. “Maybe, but… it was him, Jess. Standing right there. He even had like three pies in his cart, it was definitely him.”

“Okay,” Jess said, taking a seat next to Sam. “Your brother was at the store. Why would he leave like that? You’d think after five years he’d have time to get over you going to _college_. On a full ride, I might add.”

Sam sighed. “I have no idea. I know we didn’t leave on good terms,” he said. “But I sort of always figured it was dad’s influence on him. But dad said Dean left pretty much right after I did, so… I don’t know. I guess I just thought if I ever saw him again he might be happy about it? At least that he’d talk to me. But he just… He got this haunted look and ran. I tried to go after him, but he jumped in his car and sped away. He even left skid marks.”

“Maybe he just needs some time to process?” Jess suggested.

Sam shook his head. “He’s probably already in the next state over by now. Dean’s never really been one for settling down and actually thinking about things.” Sam ran a hand through his hair. “He’s probably getting into some bar brawl right now. That’s how he likes to deal with things. Can’t really blame him, I mean, he learned that from my dad, too.”

“I’m sorry, baby,” Jess told him.

He shrugged it off. “It’s alright,” he said. “I mean, at least I know he’s alive, right?”

Jess gave him a sad little smile and nodded. “He could come around,” she told him. “Five years is a long time. He might’ve changed.”

Sam just snorted. “Yeah, Dean’s about as averse to change as he is to talking.”


	3. Chapter 3

“Come on, Cas. Talk to me,” Dean said to the closed door of the bathroom. There was no reply from the other side. “Babe, come on. I said I was sorry.”

The door opened to Cas giving him a heated glare. Pissed was an understatement.

“Cas—“

“Shut up, Dean. I’m not in the mood for your half-hearted apologies.”

“They’re not half-hearted—“

“You’re still grinning,” Cas told him. “If your so-called apologies were sincere, then—“

“Cas,” Dean said, putting his hands on either side of his face. “I’m sorry. I really am. I was being stupid and I wasn’t thinking. I’m sorry you fell for an idiot.”

Cas rolled his eyes. “I’m not. Although sometimes you do make it extremely difficult.”

“I’ll make it up to you tonight,” Dean said, pressing a kiss into his lips. “Promise. But right now we’re late for dinner with Charlie, so get your ass in gear.”

“Who says I’ve forgiven you enough to go to dinner with you?”

“You kidding?” Dean asked, cocky grin in place. “You opened the door and it wasn’t to claw my eyes out. I’m pretty sure I’m forgiven.” He leaned in for another kiss, but Cas pushed him away.

“You are a moron. And you’re only half forgiven so don’t push your luck.” Cas walked brusquely past Dean. “Now let’s go. Charlie is making steak and I’m hungry.”

It was Dean’s turn to roll his eyes, which he did while trailing Cas to the door.

The car ride was quiet but not exactly unpleasant. The radio was turned on low, barely a murmur over the rumble of the engine. But even Dean, self-professed grade A emotionally stunted idiot, could tell that Cas was still off. It wasn’t even that he was mad, Dean was pretty sure that he was mostly forgiven, but without the anger there was just hurt.

“I am sorry, Cas,” Dean said somberly. “I didn’t mean it.”

“Let’s not talk about this right now,” Cas told him.

Dean pulled over to the side of the road and put the impala in park. “Please?” he asked, reaching out and taking Cas’ hand in his own.

“You said it yourself, we’re late for dinner with Charlie.”

“She can wait.”

“She’s introducing us to her new girlfriend. We shouldn’t be so disrespectful as to make a bad first impression.”

“Cas, they won’t mind. You know Charlie’s always running late. She’ll probably be grateful we’re giving her another twenty minutes to make out with her new girlfriend without us there making it awkward.”

Cas sighed. “I already told you that you may make it up to me later tonight.”

“I know, and I’m looking forward to it,” Dean said. “But you’re still hurting.”

Cas turned to look out the window, but he didn’t take his hand back from Dean, so he took that as a good sign.

“Fuck, Cas, I—what I said—“

“That we’re not family, you mean.”

“Yeah,” Dean said, looking down in shame. “I didn’t mean it, Cas.”

“Then why would you say it?” Cas asked, anger seeping into his voice once again.

“Because I was pissed,” Dean said. “You kept trying to push me to call Sam and I just… I just snapped—but that’s no excuse. I just—with Sam in town, I just keep thinking about it, about how I wasn’t good enough to make him stick around. I wasn’t even good enough for him to tell me he was leaving, you know? And you kept making me think about it and about how I’m not good enough and I snapped and I tried pushing you away and— _fuck_ —I knew it would hurt you and that’s why I said it, but you’ve gotta know I didn’t mean it. I hate myself for saying that to you, Cas. I’m trying real hard not to be the person that I was when shit like that would just roll off my tongue, but I fucked up and just…” Dean squeezed Cas’ hand but couldn’t look at him. “I’m so fucking sorry. I love you so much, Cas. You _are_ my family, you’re the only family I have. I hate that I hurt you. I hate that I’m a fuck up.”

A hand on his chin prompted him to look up at Cas who’s blue eyes were boring into him. “I forgive you,” he said. “And I’m sorry as well.”

“No, Cas, you don’t have anything to be sorry for.”

“Yes, I do,” Cas said. “I’m sorry that I was pushing you to call your brother. It’s not my place to tell you how to deal with the situation. I was being callous and I apologize.”

Dean leaned in and placed a gentle kiss on Cas’ lips. “I love you so much, Cas.”

“I love you, too,” Cas replied. “Now let’s go. I wasn’t lying about being hungry and right about now you’re starting to look pretty tasty.”

“I always look tasty,” Dean replied with a grin, starting the car and pulling back out onto the street.

\--

“You’re late,” Charlie said as soon as she opened the door.

“Blame Dean,” Cas told her.

“Gee, thanks, Cas,” Dean said. “Just throw me under the bus.”

“Oh no,” Charlie said, standing aside to let them in her house. “Are you in the middle of a lover’s quarrel? Should you come back later?”

“Nah, we’re alright,” Dean said, pulling Charlie in for a one armed hug. “Cas just gets cranky when he’s hungry. He’s threatened to eat me three times on the way here. I’m starting to believe him.”

“Well the steaks are almost done, so you two can set the table while Gilda and I go and finish up the food.”

“Ah, the famous Gilda,” Dean said as the three of them made their way into the house. “Where is she?”

“Grilling out back,” she said. She turned to Cas. “Don’t worry, we left yours rare.”

“Thank you,” he said.

Dinner was great. The steaks were cooked perfectly, the light salad on the side a perfect complement even though Dean had to be bullied into eating it since it was “rabbit food” and he was a self-proclaimed warrior. But even he had to admit it was pretty good. For rabbit food, of course.

By the time dessert rolled around, Charlie and Dean had gotten into an argument about something or other in the newest Star Trek movie, and Cas finally had someone share an exasperated look with.

“Are they always like this?” Gilda asked Cas.

“Yes,” he replied. “I am very glad you are here to go through this with me.”

She laughed, and the sound was a pleasant tinkling thing.

“Alright, alright,” Dean said, stretching an arm around Cas’ shoulders. “I think our significant others are getting bored.”

“Fine,” Charlie said. “Argument over. I win.”

“What?” Dean spluttered. “You can’t just declare yourself the winner!”

“I think we know who the losers are here,” Gilda told Cas in a stage whisper.

“I heard that,” Charlie said, tugging on some strands of her curly brown hair. The look that passed between them lasted a little too long.

“Well, thanks for dinner, Charlie,” Dean said. “But I think it’s time we head home.”

“Yes,” Cas added. “Dean gets cranky when he’s tired.”

Dean elbowed him in the side. “It was great meeting you, Gilda.”

“Yes, it was a pleasure,” Cas said. “I hope you’re here the next time they decide to ignore my presence.”

“Oh, I plan on it,” Gilda said with another lingering look towards Charlie. “And it was great meeting you guys, too. Charlie talks a lot, and at least twenty percent was about you two.”

“Aw, Charlie,” Dean cooed. “We didn’t know you cared.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Charlie said, waving him away. “I’m a big softie. Now get out, I need to seduce my girlfriend.”

“Alright, we should do this again sometime” Dean said, walking to the door with Cas.

“Yes please,” Charlie said. “You guys were always _so_ annoyingly adorable as a couple but now that I’m part of one, you’re not so bad.”

“Gee, thanks,” Dean said.

“You’re welcome,” Charlie replied with a smile.

Dean rolled his eyes. “Same time next week?”

“Sounds good,” Charlie replied. “But oh, I think we might invite some other people over next time.”

“Oh, okay,” Dean said. “Who did you want to invite?”

“Well,” Gilda said, stepping forward to stand next to Charlie. “I met this really sweet girl at work. Her and her boyfriend just moved here so I promised I’d show them around and stuff. I thought it might be nice to introduce them to some other people, too, you know?”

“Sounds good to me,” Dean said.

“Same,” Cas added. “Hopefully next time we’ll outnumber the trekkies.”

“Rude,” Charlie said, but Gilda laughed.

“Okay, well I’ll see you at work tomorrow so we’ll figure out a time then,” Dean said.

“Sounds perfect,” Charlie said, still trying to shoo them out. “Can’t wait. See you tomorrow, boss man.”

“Later,” Dean waved before he and Cas had the door shut on them.

“I liked her,” Cas said as they made their way toward the car.

“Yeah, she was cool,” Dean agreed. “I can’t believe Charlie met her while LARPing.”

“Why?” Cas asked. “You LARP.”

“Yeah, but I don’t call people losers for talking about Star Trek.”

Cas rolled his eyes. “I’m sorry, did she hurt your feelings or are you just mad that Charlie won the argument?”

“Excuse me,” Dean said. “Charlie did _not_ win that argument. You can’t just declare yourself the winner of an argument.”

“I don’t know,” Cas said, opening his door and sliding into the car as Dean got into the driver’s seat. “Her reasoning was sound. You rely too much on emotional manipulations. You need to deal more in logical and factual information if you want to beat her.”

“Are you kidding me right now?” Dean asked, starting the car.

“No, I am being quite serious.”

Dean stared at him for a moment, waiting for his composure to crack, but when he kept on staring right back at Dean with a straight face, Dean burst out with, “We were arguing over who was the hottest character!”

Cas grinned then. “Her case for Uhura was solid.”

“I should make you get out and fly home,” Dean grumbled.

“Gladly,” Cas replied. “I haven’t had a chance to stretch my wings in _quite some time_.” He pierced Dean with an annoyed glare at his emphasized words.

Dean sighed. “Let’s not get into this fight tonight, Cas. Can we just have one night of peace?”

“Fine,” Cas huffed. “But only because you already have one thing to make up to me tonight. I wouldn’t want you to think that you can start doubling up make up sex nights.”

Dean snorted. “I wouldn’t dream of it, Cas,” he said. Then, “Wait, why are you assuming you’re going to win this next argument?”

Cas just patted him on the knee. “Let’s go home, Dean,” he said, keeping his hand on Dean’s leg and moving it up a couple inches and squeezing.


	4. Chapter 4

Dean stared into the fridge, willing something new to appear.

“We’ve been living off of takeout for two weeks, Dean,” Cas said, walking by on his way to the coffee machine.

Dean grunted.

“Don’t you think that maybe it’s time we go shopping?”

The door to the fridge slammed shut. “I was thinking we could go to Benny’s tonight,” he said. “We haven’t been there in a while. We deserve a night out.”

“Okay,” Cas said. “I’ll call and have them hold our table.” He poured himself a cup of coffee. “But what are we going to eat for breakfast and lunch?”

“I could go through a drive thru and pick up some breakfast burritos.”

Cas glared at him. “This is getting ridiculous, Dean. We can’t just not go to the store because you’re afraid you’re going to run into your brother.”

“We can survive a little longer,” Dean said, brushing past Cas to get himself some coffee.

Cas rolled his eyes. “Dean, I am going to the store today.”

“Cas—“

“No, Dean. You can come with me or you can stay here, but I’m going.”

Dean sighed. “It’s too—“

“It is _not_ too dangerous,” Cas said, eyes flashing. “You didn’t know what I was until I told you, so Sam will certainly not pick up on it. He doesn’t even know who I am. He wouldn’t have any reason to look into what I am because I’m not a danger to this town. Besides, according to you, your brother isn’t even a hunter anymore. He’d be far too rusty to make an ID on something like me. So please, if there’s any half-assed excuse you’ve been trying to use that I haven’t covered, let me hear it.”

Dean opened and closed his mouth several times, before coming out with, “Fine. But I’m going with you.”

“It’s very sweet of you to want to protect me and all, but—“

“No, it’s not that,” Dean said. “You always get the wrong beer.”

Cas rolled his eyes and finished off the rest of his coffee. “Hurry up. I’m starving.”

“You’re always starving,” Dean told him, taking a small sip of his own coffee.

Cas just shrugged. “I have a very healthy appetite. Now hurry and finish your coffee. You better be done with it by the time I get dressed.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Dean muttered as Cas brushed by him. “I’ll finish my coffee when I finish my damn coffee.”

“I heard that,” Cas called from the other room.

“I heard that,” Dean mocked, pulling a face.

“You realize I have heightened hearing, right?” Cas called.

Dean contented himself with silently mocking Cas, pulling another ridiculous face and mouthing the words.

\--

The shopping trip was a success according to Dean who bought enough food to last them at least three weeks.

Cas rolled his eyes at Dean’s enthusiasm for the non-perishables he bought.

“I mean, why didn’t we think of buying in bulk before?” Dean asked, shoving some more steaks in the freezer.

“Because we’ve never had a reason to avoid the store before.”

Dean ignored his tone. “I’m just saying, Cas. Bulk buying is great. I mean, do you see how much food we have? I don’t think I’ve ever seen so much food outside of a restaurant.”

“We could probably open one up with everything we bought.”

“Nah,” Dean said, looking for a spot to fit the ground beef they bought. “I think owning one restaurant is enough.”

“Speaking of,” Cas said. “Did you really want to go to Benny’s tonight, or was that just another excuse?”

“No, we should go to Benny’s,” Dean said. “I mean, it was an excuse, but now I’m craving that damn gumbo he makes.”

Cas rolled his eyes. “Alright, I’ll make the call. But,” he said, leaving Dean to put the rest of their rather large haul away, “you have to make dinner tomorrow for Charlie and everyone.”

“Oh fuck,” Dean said, closing the door to the freezer and knocking his head against it. “I totally forgot about that.”

“Well it’s not like we don’t have anything to make,” he said, gesturing to the kitchen table which was still piled high with food yet to be put away.

“Yeah, but now I have to actually think of something to cook.” He sighed. “With you I can just slap a slab of meat on a plate and you’re happy.”

“Please,” Cas scoffed. “You love to cook. You’re just mad you have to make a salad.”

“It’s rabbit food, Cas. People aren’t meant to eat it.”

“That didn’t stop you from taking seconds at Charlie’s last week,” Cas replied, walking out of the room.

\--

Dean had decided on Spaghetti Bolognese, since Charlie called that morning requesting it. Well, he says requested. It was more like she called, insulted his taste in fictional men, and then demanded the dish because, “Dude, the last time you made that I think I went a little straight for you.”

So Spaghetti Bolognese it was. With a dumb salad on the side that Dean made Cas make. And of course, a pie for desert. Dean had even made it himself. He was just taking it out of the oven when there was a knock at the door.

“Babe, can you get that?” Dean called, placing the pie on the counter to cool and taking off his oven mitts.

Muffled voices came from the living room and Dean quickly whipped off the Kiss the Cook apron he had been wearing and chucking it into the pantry before anyone could see.

“Charlie and Gilda are here,” Cas said, poking his head into the kitchen.

“Great,” Dean said. “Can you grab the salad?”

Cas nodded and grabbed the large bowl before heading back out.

Dean stayed behind for a minute to cut some chunks of parmesan cheese to grate over their meals when the doorbell rang.

Dean grabbed the large pot of pasta and made it to the dining room just as Cas opened the door to greet their other guests.

The pot clattered on the floor, at least a quarter of its contents spilling over the side, but thankfully it landed upright saving the majority.

Every eye swiveled over to Dean at the ruckus, including the new couple.

“Dean?”

It was Sammy. Again. And once again Dean fled, this time to his room where he began pacing.

What the fuck. What the _fuck_. How was this his life? How was Sam here again?

The door to his room opened and he froze, but then Cas’ voice came with a soft, “Dean?” and he relaxed. “Are you okay?” He closed and locked the door behind him before striding over to Dean.

“How is this happening, Cas?” he asked. “How the fuck are they the couple Gilda happened to invite over? How is this a thing that is happening?”

“You did say there was a ride at Disneyland about this,” Cas replied.

“Yeah, but it’s the worst one there.”

Cas sighed. “What do you want to do about this situation?”

Dean opened his mouth to reply but there came a loud pounding on the door and a shouted, “Dean! Dean, I know you’re in there!”

Dean dropped onto the bed and put his head in his hands.

Suddenly he was in a motel room, the stale scent of cigarettes and whiskey filling his nostrils. There was yelling and shouting and loud, loud banging. The hits were coming, he knew they were coming. They would be bad this time. He had failed. He didn’t do his job so the hits were going to come and he was going to hurt and the banging was just so _loud_ but he couldn’t do anything he was frozen, gasping for air.

And fuck, he was having another episode. He hadn’t had one this bad in years. Not since the nightmares had subsided.

“Stay with me, Dean,” Cas was telling him once he had enough sense to start listening again. “Stay with me, my love. Keep breathing. In and out. Take a deep breath with me, come on.”

It would have worked if the banging on the door didn’t continue with Sam’s continued shouting, “Come on, man! Just open the door! I just want to talk!”

“Keep breathing, Dean, I’ll be right back,” Cas said, getting up and crossing over to the door which he opened to Sam’s giant figure looming. Cas pushed him back and closed the door to the room behind the both of them.

“I want to see my brother,” Sam said, temper flaring.

Cas stared at him, unfazed. “No,” he replied flatly.

“What do you mean, ‘no’?” Sam demanded. “That’s my brother. I have a right to see him.”

“He needs a minute,” Cas said. “You banging on the door and yelling at him is not helping. If he wants to see you, he will come out to do so. Now please go and wait in the living room while I speak to him.”

“Yeah? And who the hell are you to talk to him?”

“His husband.” Cas slipped back in the room easily enough, having stunned Sam into a momentary daze with the information.

“Dean?” Cas asked softly, approaching him like he would a cornered animal.

Dean gasped, still trying to get his breathing back under control. Cas crossed the space between them in a few steps and sat down next to him, hugging him close. “Breathe with me, Dean.”

Cas held him until he felt Dean’s rigid frame relax, his breaths coming slower and steadier.

“He sounded just like my dad,” Dean whispered. “And I—I just… _fuck_.” He ran his hand through his hair a couple of times, making it stand up on end. “What am I supposed to do, Cas?” Dean looked over to him like he was lost, eyes wide and shining with tears. So much like the first time they met.

Cas sighed and kissed Dean’s temple. “I don’t know, my love. If you think you can handle it, then honestly, I think you should speak to him,” Cas told him. “Maybe not today, but soon.” He shrugged. “That’s my opinion, anyway. I think you have some questions that were never answered. And from Sam’s reaction, I think he feels the same way. I know you say you’re fine that way, but…” He sighed and hugged Dean closer to himself. “But whatever your decision, I will stand by you. If you need me to get everyone out of the house, I can be quite intimidating. Maybe I’ll even show them my—“

“Cas! Not when there’s a _hunter_ in the house!” Dean whispered vehemently.

“There’s always a hunter in this house,” Cas replied with an eye roll. “Now what would you like me to do? Shoo or stall?”

Dean took a deep breath, held it for a moment, and let it out in a rush. “Stall,” he said. “I just need a minute. Maybe like ten. I mean, if Charlie and Gilda are still here you can let them off the hook if they want to go. Although, I know Charlie is a little drama voyeur so she’s probably out there making popcorn.”

\--

“Wait, so your Dean’s brother?” Charlie asked, staring at Sam’s hulking form pacing back and forth across the living room with rapt attention.

“Yes,” he replied, glib.

“I didn’t even know he had a brother.”

“Yeah, well, he sort of disowned me when I went off to college.”

“That’s not true,” a graveled voice broke in.

Sam’s head whipped around and he saw the dark haired guy who had said he was Dean’s husband.

“He was always very proud of you,” he went on.

“Cas, you knew Dean had a brother?” Charlie asked.

“Of course,” Cas replied, walking further into the living room and stopping a few feet away from Sam.

“Charlie,” Gilda said, tugging on her shirt. “Maybe we should go. This sort of seems like a family thing.”

“But—but—“ Charlie said sadly.

“Charlie,” Gilda admonished. “Come _on_.”

“I promise I’ll send Dean with some leftovers for you tomorrow,” Cas told her as she was ushered towards the door by an awkward looking Gilda. “And we’re very sorry all of this didn’t turn out normally.”

“At least we didn’t have to suffer through another discussion of who’s the hottest in Star Trek, right?” Gilda replied.

Cas snorted softly. “That is a very good point.”

“I’ll see you at work tomorrow,” Gilda added towards Jess who was standing by Sam’s side, trying to calm him down with a hand on his arm. Jess nodded at her with a strained looking smile, the best she could muster up in these circumstances.

And then it was just the three of them in the living room. Sam stared at the man—Cas—standing in front of him, looking calm as anything about this whole proceeding. As if long lost brothers popped up all the time. As if it wasn’t super weird that Dean was apparently _married_. And to a _dude_. Jess was right when she said that five years was a long time. But he didn’t think any amount of time could be _that_ long.

“So,” Jess said beside him, apparently unable to stand the silent staring contest any longer. “You’re Dean’s husband?”

“Yes,” Cas replied, a small smile lifting a corner of his mouth, the first time that Sam had seen the guy show any emotion at all. “Four years, now.”

“That’s really sweet,” she said with a smile. “So how did you two meet, anyway?”

Cas outright smiled at that. “Dean hates this story,” he told her.

“Yeah, so maybe you shouldn’t tell it.”

Once again, all eyes snapped towards Dean who had just come out of his room, looking a little pale, but otherwise fine.

“Dean,” Sam said, striding forward but stopping awkwardly a few feet in front of him.

“Heya, Sammy,” Dean replied. “Uh, long time no see, I guess, huh?”

“Seriously?” Sam said. “That’s all that you have to say to me?”

“Well, what the hell do you want me to say?” Dean asked.

“I don’t know,” he said, voice getting louder. “Maybe you could start off with where the hell you’ve been the past five years!”

“Hey, you’re the one that walked out on me!” Dean shouted. “I begged you not to go.”

“You can’t blame me for that, Dean,” Sam said, “I had to get out. Dad was driving me insane! I didn’t want to be in the family business, alright? I’m so sorry that my plans for _my own life_ inconvenienced you so much.”

Dean stared at him, his mouth hanging open. “Inconvenienced me,” Dean laughed to himself, a bitter thing. “You hear that, Cas?” he called loudly. “It was just an _inconvenience_.”

“Dean,” Cas said, taking a step forward. “That’s not—“

 “No, you know what?” Dean said, looking up at Sam. “I can’t do this right now. Get the fuck outta my house.”

“Dean, please,” Cas tried again.

“Fine,” Sam shouted, throwing his hands up in the air. “Disappear for another five years, see if I come and look for you this time!”

“Sam!” Jess reprimanded.

“Look for me?” Dean laughed. “Oh, that’s rich. You couldn’t wait to get rid of me, why the hell would you come looking for me?”

“I don’t know,” Sam said, making his way towards the door, pulling Jess along with him. “I must have gone temporarily insane, thanks for helping me realize what a huge mistake I was making.”

“Glad I could be good for something,” Dean retorted, following them and slamming the door once they were outside.

“What the hell, Sam?” Jess said, pulling her arm out of Sam’s grip.

“What?” Sam asked. “He was the one who started in on me.”

Jess shook her head and took off for their car, a dark blue Prius, parked on the street. They walked silently across the stone path and through the small gate of the honest to god _white picket fence_ that lined Dean’s yard.

Once they were safely inside the car, engine a barely audible purr, Sam said, “So what? Are you on his side now?” He pulled out onto the street, not looking over at her.

“Of course not,” she replied. “You were completely right to get out of your situation and if he can’t understand that then that’s his problem.”

“Thank you,” Sam said.

“But,” Jess continued. “Seeing him tonight—“

“Oh come on,” Sam cut her off. “He didn’t even try and put any moves on you, you can’t seriously tell me that you’ve fallen for his stupid charm.”

“Please,” she said, offended. “I’m just trying to say that seeing him tonight and how he reacted to everything, maybe you don’t know the whole story.”

“What whole story? I left and he was pissed that I wasn’t some carbon copy of him, ready to jump whenever dad said. I wasn’t going to give up my life to that man’s cause and Dean just couldn’t see that. He never could. Whatever my dad wanted, he did it without complaint, like he was proud or something. Proud that dad bestowed some great honor upon him by turning him into his own little soldier. I wasn’t going to let that be me, so I decided that I was going to do something for myself and it’s like I admitted I was the freaking antichrist or something. So I left. That’s it, Jess. That’s the whole story. So please, enlighten me as to where Dean has any right to come off attacking me.”

“Yeah, Sam, I know all of that. You’ve told me before. But,” Jess sighed, slumping down in her seat and looking out the window. “For someone who’s supposed to be a replica of your dad, he turned out pretty different. Maybe he wasn’t as happy to do your dad’s bidding as you think.” She shrugged. “I just think that next time you should give him a chance to talk before you jump down his throat for doing the same thing you did.”

“I didn’t—“

“You disappeared on him, he disappeared on you.” Jess looked over at him. “That’s the same thing, Sam.”

“Yeah, but he knew where to find me. He could check to make sure I wasn’t dead somewhere, or worse.”

Jess patted him on the shoulder. “That’s just a nuance. The anger your feeling towards him, it’s the same anger he felt towards you.”

Sam gritted his teeth and decided to drive the rest of the way home in silence. He wasn’t mad at Jess, he was mad at himself. Because Jess was right. Dean wasn’t the person that Sam thought he was. Maybe… maybe he didn’t have the whole story.

\--

“Dean,” Cas hissed as soon as the door was closed.

“I couldn’t do it, Cas,” he said. “I tried, I couldn’t do it.”

“That was not trying,” Cas replied. “All you two did was act like children having a hissy fit before you kicked him out.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Dean said. “Did you not see where I was trying to talk to him and then he _jumped down my throat_?”

Cas rolled his eyes. “I did. I said you were _both_ acting like children. But you didn’t try very hard.”

Dean crossed his arms and huffed.

“Dean, you cannot be mad at him for not knowing the things you deliberately kept from him.”

“I’m not mad about that,” he said.

Cas rolled his eyes again. “Of course not. Your reaction to him daring to use a term that belittled the abuse you endured wasn’t exaggerated at all.”

“So what, you’re telling me to just get over it? To just take it like a man?” Dean squared his shoulders and planted his feet in a dare.

“Of course not,” Cas replied, offended. “I would never. I’m merely pointing out that _Sam does not know_. You cannot be mad at someone for not knowing something.”

“So, what? You think I should tell him? Just come right out with a, ‘So you remember how when we were kids I told you I got into a lot of fights at school? Well, it turns out it was our fuckwad of a father. And boy, the beating I got after you left. It’s almost like _I wish you had told me so we both could have gotten out together_.’ Is that—is that how I should have started the conversation?”

Cas narrowed his eyes. “You are taking your anger out on me and I do not appreciate it, Dean.”

“Then leave!” Dean shouted. “See if I care.”

“I am not leaving, Dean,” Cas said calmly. “This is our house.”

“Fine,” Dean spat back. “Then I’ll leave.” He grabbed his keys off of the table and wrenched the door open.

“Dean, you are acting like a child!” Cas shouted. Dean took vindictive pleasure in having gotten Cas to break his unnaturally calm façade and slammed the door behind himself.

He made it about twenty minutes out of town before his blood stopped boiling in his veins and he managed a coherent thought, which, of course, was, _Fuck_. He pulled off onto the side of the highway and grabbed his phone from his pocket.

It rang three times before he heard a cool, “Dean?”

“I’m sorry, Cas,” he said, voice cracking. “Fuck, baby, I’m so sorry.” He leaned his forehead against the cool steering wheel.

“Come home, Dean.”

He nodded. Then realized Cas couldn’t see him and said, “Okay.”

The ride back home seemed to take forever, but when he finally pulled into the paved driveway Cas was sitting on the porch waiting for him. Dean collapsed into his arms when they met halfway.

“I’m sorry,” Dean said into his shoulder. “You’d think I’d have stopped being such a monumental fuck up by now, huh?”

“You are not a fuck up, Dean,” Cas told him. “You were feeling attacked and lashed out. I’m sorry I wasn’t more supportive.”

“Fuck,” Dean said, lifting his head up to look into Cas’ eyes. “I make you apologize for the dumbest shit, don’t I? Here I am being an asshole and then you apologize to me for not taking my shit.” He shook his head. “You deserve an award for everything I put you through.”

“I never take your shit, Dean,” Cas said. “But I could stand to be a little nicer when I call you out on it.”

Dean just shook his head again. “How did I get so lucky?”

Cas smiled shyly and shrugged. “I don’t know, but I’m glad we did.”

Dean leaned in and kissed Cas gently on the mouth. “Let’s see if we can salvage some dinner, huh?”

“I promised Charlie you’d bring her the leftovers tomorrow.”

Dean sighed. “I guess I’ll order some takeout, then. Fuck, I am so _sick_ of eating out.”

Cas snorted. “And whose fault is that, I wonder?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Dean said, breaking away from Cas to walk into the house. “At least you got out of doing the dishes for a while.”

Cas grinned. “That was a very good upside. Unfortunately, it will not apply to tonight.”

Dean turned around at the door and kissed him one more time. “I’ll get the dishes tonight, babe.”

“No,” Cas told him. “You’ve been through enough tonight. I say we just throw everything in the dishwasher and fool around a little until our food gets here.”

“Damn, Cas,” Dean said. “You have the best ideas.”

Cas flashed a devious grinned. “You wanna hear a better one?” At Dean’s nod, he continued, “What do you say we skip the takeout altogether?”

\--

They did end up having to eat, however. Cas could hardly go between meals without a snack. They were true to their word and didn’t end up ordering takeout, but they did decide that Charlie would never know just how much spaghetti they were able to salvage. So two a.m. found them in their underwear in the kitchen eating spaghetti from a shared bowl and making truly awful Lady and the Tramp jokes. Well, Dean was making the jokes, Cas just tried to keep from smiling and encouraging him.

“No, Dean, I do not want to try and slurp up the same piece of spaghetti with you.”

“Aw, come on, Cas. It’s romantic. Like Disney romantic.” He bumped Cas’ hip with his own. “I know you want to.”

Cas narrowed his eyes at Dean and glared. “The only reason we’re sharing this bowl is because I am not cleaning up more than this dish tonight. Do not assume that I want to share my actual food with you.”

“And people say you’re not a softy.”

Cas growled so Dean planted a kiss on the side of his mouth.

“They sure did get that grumpy part right, though.”

“Eat your food, Dean.”

Dean just grinned and leaned a little closer to Cas, still wondering just how he got lucky enough to score the grumpy asshole trying to steal his share of their meal.


	5. Chapter 5

“So,” Charlie said, spinning around on her chair at the reception desk of Dean’s car restoration business.

“We’re not going to talk about it,” Dean said, slapping a rather small container of leftovers down in front of her. “And what are you, twelve? Stop spinning around, this is supposed to be a respectable business.”

Charlie rolled her eyes. “Please,” she said. “This place is doing so well I could show up to work in a chicken suit and we’d be fine.”

“You better hope I don’t take that into consideration,” Dean replied, walking over to stand behind her so that he could peer at the computer over her shoulder. “What do we have today?”

“Not much,” she said, clicking over to the schedule. “Ash is coming in later to do the paint job on the Firebird, and the Mustang isn’t coming in until tomorrow now.”

“What?” Dean asked. “What happened?”

“I don’t know,” she said. “Mr. Finley just called and said that he would be bringing it by tomorrow instead of today. I think it was a mix up at the towing service.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “I told him that he should have used ours.”

Charlie just shrugged. “Well, now you’ve got a free day to catch up on paperwork.”

Dean groaned. “Are you sure there’s not something else that needs to be done on the Firebird?”

“Nope,” Charlie said gleefully. “This is what you get for owning your own business.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Dean said, wiping a hand across his face. “I’ll be in my office then.” He straightened with a sigh and walked over to his office.

“I blocked Netflix on your computer,” Charlie called.

Dean grumbled as he slammed his door.

\--

He spent about twenty minutes playing solitaire on his computer before he got bored enough to start on his paperwork. He was actually starting to make pretty good headway when Charlie told him over the intercom that he had a call.

“Hello, Dean speaking,” he said, balancing his phone between his cheek and his shoulder.

“Dammit, boy,” came a gruff voice on the other end.

“Hey, Bobby,” Dean said. “What’s up?”

“Not your IQ, that’s for damn sure.”

“What’d I do this time?” Dean asked, leaning back in his chair and putting his feet up on the desk. Bobby liked to call at least once a month to berate him for something, which was really just an excuse to check up on him and let him know how everyone was doing. He was the only old hunting contact that he kept in touch with, even going so far as to take a few jobs from him when they were local. Although, that last bit was mostly his way of thanking Bobby for helping him get his restoration business set up and giving him good deals on parts from his junkyard. Dean had even chanced a few visits when Bobby had assured him no other hunters would be around. He hadn’t introduced him to Cas, of course. Bobby was way too smart to not notice something was up with him, but Bobby did know about him. Even going so far as to send him a wedding gift of Johnny Walker Blue. Dean may have teared up a little, but Cas promised not to tell anyone about it.

“Why did I just get a call from Sam?” He could hear Bobby’s frown over the line.

“Shit,” Dean said, rubbing a hand down his face. “What did he say?”

“Oh, nothing much, just that he went to dinner with you last night? Why don’t you tell me about it since you apparently didn’t bother telling me that you were going to have a little reunion.”

Dean sighed. “Bobby,” he started, but Bobby continued to talk over him.

“Here I am, fielding calls from him and your dad the past five years, then you go ahead and invite Sam over to dinner and I don’t get so much as a phone call?”

“That’s not what happened, Bobby,” Dean said. “I didn’t know it was him.”

“Oh, so now you’re just inviting strangers into your house? Dammit, boy. I know you ain’t a hunter anymore, but I expect you still got some common sense locked up in that head of yours.”

“It was a friend of a friend,” Dean muttered.

“Boy, I don’t care if it was a friend of the damn Pope!”

“Come on, Bobby, give me a little credit. You know I have salt lines laid around the perimeter, sigils and devil’s traps at every doorway.”

“Great, you’re protected against demons,” Bobby scoffed. “You know how many other things are out there?”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Yeah, Bobby, I know. I laid out the silverware, had iron on hand. I have it covered. I’m retired, not stupid.”

“Yeah, well, could’ve fooled me,” he replied, but he at least sounded appeased.

“Aw, Bobby,” Dean said. “Are you just jealous you didn’t get an invite to dinner?”

Bobby huffed on the other end of the line. “I still say I shoulda met this fella before you decided to go and get hitched, but no. I just called to tell you that you should probably fix whatever the hell happened to you before your brother calls your dad.”

“What?” Dean said. “Why the hell would Sam call dad?”

“Do you listen when I talk to you?” he asked. “Your dad went to Sam about a year after you left him, told him he needed help finding you.”

“You never told me they worked together,” Dean said.

“Well, it only lasted about a month before your brother went back to school.”

Dean scoffed.

“Yeah, well, they didn’t have much to go on. You’d disappeared by then. New number, new name. They didn’t have anything to go on.”

“It’s not like I changed my name to avoid them,” Dean muttered.

“Yeah, yeah, your love story is real sweet, princess.” There was a distant ringing over the line. “That’s my other line,” Bobby said, “I gotta go. Just called to tell you that you better fix whatever the hell happened and tell your damn brother not to tell your father.”

“Yeah, thanks Bobby,” Dean said and then the line went dead.

Dean dropped his feet back to the floor and put his head in his hands for a few moments before straightening up and grabbing up the phone again.

“Hello?”

“Cas,” Dean sighed. “Remind me how much I like it here. Remind me that I don’t want to have to move.”

“You love it here, Dean,” Cas replied. “We have friends here, businesses that you love. We have a life here, Dean. Together.”

“Thanks, Cas.”

“Of course, my love,” he replied easily. “Now what’s wrong?”

Dean wiped a hand over his face and gave Cas the cliff notes of what Bobby had told him.

“Would your brother really tell your father?” Cas asked.

Dean shrugged even though he knew Cas couldn’t see. “Maybe,” he said. “I mean, you said it yourself. He doesn’t know. He has no reason to not tell him you know?”

“So what should we do?”

That was the million dollar question. He wanted to just run away and pretend like none of this ever happened, but that would require leaving his home and he worked hard to make a home. He’s worked hard on letting himself accept a home.

“I guess I’m going to have to make nice with Sam.”

Cas thankfully didn’t respond.

\--

“Charlie,” Dean said, peeking his head out of his office.

“Yeah, boss?”

“I need a favor,” he said.

“What’s up?” she asked, brushing some of her bright red hair behind an ear.

“Do you have Sam’s number?”

“Uh, I think Gilda might,” she said. “And if she doesn’t it really won’t be too hard to find it.” She spun around and began typing on the computer. “In fact, I just found it.”

“You better not be hacking into secret government secrets on that computer,” he told her, taking the piece of paper she had just written the number down on.

“Don’t worry, boss. I’d never let anything get traced back to you,” she assured him. “I like this cushy job too much.”

He snorted. “Well as long as I’m not going to be brought in with a bag over my head for interrogation in some unmapped warehouse.”

It was Charlie’s turn to let out a snort. “Like Cas wouldn’t tear the world apart to find you.”

Pink touched Dean’s cheeks. “He would, wouldn’t he?”

“Uh, yeah, dude,” Charlie said. “Your husband is kinda scary. But like, in a good way.”

“Thanks,” he said. “I’m sure he’d like that assessment.”

There was a small moment of silence before Charlie exploded. “So how did it go last night?”

“Thanks for the number, Charlie,” he said, going back into his office.

“Oh, come on,” she pleaded. “I got you his number!”

Dean just gave her a mock salute and closed the door.

He slowly rounded his desk and sunk into his chair, fidgeting until he was completely comfortable. He stared down at the piece of paper with Sam’s number written on it and turned it around a couple of times. Finally, he sighed, mumbled, “This is stupid,” under his breath and picked up his phone.

\--

Sam walked into the apartment and threw his backpack in the corner before collapsing onto the couch next to Jess. He stared at the television, not taking in a single thing that was going on.

Jess muted the show and turned to face him. “What’s wrong?” she asked.

“What?” he asked, still slightly in a daze.

“Well, usually you come in here all, ‘So get this!’ and then tell me a story about some _hilarious_ professor or that jerk in your criminal law class. And then I either pretend to laugh or help you come up with ways to make that guy disappear. But today you look sort of like a zombie ate your brain. Did you get a B on a pop quiz or something?”

“No,” Sam said. “It’s just, uh, Dean called me.”

“Really?” Jess sat up a little straighter. “What’d he say?”

“He invited us to dinner. At Lafitte’s.”

“Lafitte’s?” Jess asked. “Fine dining doesn’t really seem like your brother’s M.O. from what you’ve told me. Maybe he’s trying to make an effort.”

Sam shrugged. “Maybe. I mean, obviously, yeah. But. I don’t know, I guess I’m just learning something new about him every day.”

“This is a good thing, though, right?” Jess said after a small pause. “This is what you want?”

Sam nodded. “Yeah, of course.” He bit his lip. “It’s just a lot different than I expected it to be.”

Jess gave him a small smile. “Well, I think it’s a good thing. I never thought I’d get to go to Lafitte’s. That place has like a year-long waiting list.”

“What?” Sam asked. “Seriously?”

“Seriously,” she replied.

He was silent for a moment. “Maybe he’s playing a prank on us.”

“What? Why would he do that?”

“Well, it kind of seems like the kind of lame prank he’d pull.”

“Sam,” Jess said in a tone that clearly suggested he was being unfair.

“You just said that they have a year-long waiting list, Jess. How would they get reservations for Friday night?”

“Oh,” Jess said. She frowned as she pondered the question. “Well, what’s the worst that could happen? Best case scenario, they’ve somehow managed to get reservations last minute on a cancellation or something. I mean, maybe they know the maître d’ and he snuck them in. Worst case scenario, we look like idiots for five minutes and find out that your brother really is a giant asshole and then I make you feel better with ice cream and sex. I say we go for it.”

A fond look passed over his face. “Must you always be the voice of reason?”

She pretended to think about it. “Hmm… Yeah.”

He grinned as he leaned in to kiss her. “What would I do without you?”

“Crash and burn,” she replied against his lips.

\--

“Dean, stop fidgeting, you’re going to be fine,” Cas said, placing a calming hand on Dean’s knee.

“I know,” Dean replied, loosening his tie a little bit more. “We shouldn’t have gotten here so early. Benny probably thinks we’re complete dorks.”

“You are a complete dork,” Cas told him. At Dean’s affronted look, he went on with a small grin. “And that’s why I love you.”

“And here I thought it was my perky nipples.”

Cas laughed. “Those aren’t so bad, either. But if we’re going off of purely physical attributes, I’d have to go with your ass.”

Dean rolled his eyes and lifted his glass to take a sip of his water.

“Or your penis.”

Dean sprayed water out of his mouth. “Oh my god, Cas,” he spluttered. “Who the fuck just says penis like that?”

Cas just shrugged. “Would you prefer male genitalia?”

Dean covered his face with his hands, trying to suppress his laughter.

“I can say it in another language, if you’d like. I know quite a few.”

“Oh my god,” Dean said again. “How do all of our friends think that _I’m_ the dork?”

Cas just opened up his menu and began perusing what he already had memorized. “It’s all about the poker face, Dean.”

Dean snorted. “You are such a weirdo,” he said fondly.

“Yes,” Cas agreed. “But that’s why you love me.”

\--

“This is it,” Sam said, standing below the _Lafitte’s_ sign and taking a deep breath.

“This was it five minutes ago, too,” Jess told him. “We’re already like ten minutes late, we really should go inside now.”

“Just give me another minute,” Sam said. “Just… if this is a stupid prank I want to just pretend for one more minute.”

“Sam,” Jess said, grabbing his hand and entwining their fingers. “I think it’s time to go inside. If this isn’t a prank, we’re being really rude making them wait.”

Sam sighed. “Okay, you’re right. Let’s go in.” He remained immobile.

Jess rolled her eyes and tugged him forward by his hand. She left him by the door with a slightly exasperated shake of her head and strode up to the maître d’ alone.

“Hi,” she said to a gawky, goofy guy standing behind his podium. “Is there a reservation under Winchester?”

“Hm,” the man said, absolutely oozing cheeriness. “The name doesn’t sound familiar. Let me check.”

Jess bit her lip, crossing her fingers behind her back.

“No, I’m sorry, there’s no reservation under the name Winchester.”

Jess’ heart sank all the way down to her knock off designer heels that were already killing her feet. “Are you sure?” she asked, lowering her voice in the hopes that Sam couldn’t hear them.

The man looked back to his computer and leaned a little closer to the monitor. “I’m sorry,” he said, his cheery voice carrying. “Could it be under another name, maybe?”

Another name! She grabbed and clung onto that small thread of hope. “Oh, yes, it might be under…” She stopped. She had never gotten Cas’ last name.

“Jess.” Sam said, coming up behind her. “It’s okay,” he told her. “It’s okay.”

Jess set her jaw. “Is there a reservation for a Dean and Cas?” she asked, throwing all her cards on the table and praying, actually praying, that the universe would come through just this once.

“Oh!” the man said, a goofy looking smile spreading across his face. “Why didn’t you say you were here to meet the Novaks? Right this way!”

Jess let out the breath she hadn’t realized she had been holding and turned with a brilliant smile to face Sam who was staring after the maître d’ with his mouth hanging slightly open. “See?” she said. “Everything is going to be fine.”

\--

“They’re late,” Dean said, checking his watch for what had to be the tenth time that minute.

Cas grabbed his hand and pulled it down so he couldn’t check the time _again_. “Parking is atrocious here on a Friday night. I highly doubt you remembered to tell them that we’d pay for the valet, and I also highly doubt that a young couple, one of whom is trying to pay his way through law school, will think to use it.”

Dean sighed and went to check his watch again, but Cas still had a grip on his hand and wouldn’t allow it. He started jiggling his leg up and down under the table instead.

“My love, you need to relax.”

“I can’t, Cas,” Dean said. “What if they changed their mind? I mean, I haven’t talked to Sam since he agreed to come. What if he decided that he was happier without me? What if—“

The door to their private room opened and Garth came in wearing his usual goofy smile. He held the door open and gestured for the two people trailing him to come in and take a seat.

Sam and Jess came and sat down at the table with twin looks of confused awe on their face.

Dean couldn’t help his pleased grin. Sure, Cas was wealthy, like hordes of gold wealthy, but Dean was the one who convinced him to start doing something with it. This restaurant was one of those things. And maybe if he had left out that little piece of information because he wanted to see his baby brother’s shocked face when he got here, well, no one needed to know about it but him. Although, judging by the look Cas was now giving him, he knew, too.

“Hey, Sammy,” Dean said.

Sam just nodded dumbly. “Hey.”

Cas kicked Dean under the table and while Dean yelped, turned calmly to Garth and said, “Just the usual wine, please, Garth.”

“Yes, sir, Mr. Novak,” the gawky man replied, and with a slight bow, left the room, closing the door behind himself.

“Dude,” Sam said, once the door had been closed. “How the hell did you swing this? I mean, I know you had a way of charming yourself into girls’ pants, but this? Seriously?”

Dean scowled, but luckily Cas cut in before he could reply. “Dean and I own this restaurant.”

Sam and Jess’ jaws nearly hit the table.

“You guys own this place?” Jess asked, eyes wide.

Dean’s scowl turned into a wicked grin. “You bet, sweetheart.”

“It was Dean’s idea,” Cas continued. “At first he considered being the head chef himself, but then I suspect he realized how much work it would be and found Benny.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “You make it sound like I’m a lazy asshole. I didn’t want to be away from home twenty hours out of the day, so sue me.”

Cas just smiled at him and placed a hand on his knee. “I’m very glad that you decided to open up your shop instead. You’re still gone far too long for my liking, but at least your hours are reasonable.”

Jess looked over to Sam, but his jaw was still hanging slightly open, so she turned back to Dean and Cas and asked, “Shop?”

“Oh, it’s just a small thing,” Dean said, rubbing the back of his neck.

Cas rolled his eyes. “Dean runs his own car restoration business. He’s very in demand.”

“He’s exaggerating,” Dean told them. “I only started it up like a year ago.”

Cas squeezed Dean’s knee. “And he already has people vying for a place on his waiting list.”

“I just need to hire more people,” Dean said. “I’m doing most of the work on my own right now. That’s the only reason there’s a waiting list. It just seems like I’m popular.”

“Don’t listen to him,” Cas said. “He doesn’t take compliments well, especially when they’re so well deserved.”

Dean felt his face heating up and really wished Garth had brought their wine already so he had something else to blame it on.

“You guys own this place?” Sam asked, brain finally catching up to the conversation it seemed.

Dean snorted and this time the squeeze to Dean’s knee was in warning instead of support.

“Yes,” Cas answered. “But our friend Benny runs it. He knows far more than either of us about how to run a restaurant. Also about how to cook, although Dean can give him a run for his money on some dishes.”

“Sam used to tell me how you always used to cook for him,” Jess said, turning her bright smile from Cas to Dean while attempting to subtly elbow Sam in the side.

Sam seemed to get the message and said, “You do make a mean mac and cheese.”

Dean snorted again, this time in good humor. “Oh, man. Trust me, my recipe has improved over the years. No more marshmallow fluff, that’s for sure.”

Sam and Dean laughed, while Jess and Cas shared a slightly horrified look.

“Marshmallow fluff?” Jess asked.

“It was _exotic_ ,” Sam insisted earnestly.

All four of them laughed.

Awkwardness broken, the rest of dinner went smoothly with the brothers getting to know each other and the men they had become in the five years without their father. And getting to know the significant others that had helped them on their way. They reminisced a little, but their time was mostly filled with anecdotes from the past five years. There was still some tension hanging over their heads, evidenced in the way that they skirted certain subjects that delved a little too deep into their past, or the abrupt and awkward segues made by both Cas and Jess when they saw one of the brothers grit their teeth a little too tightly. But overall they both considered the dinner a very good step towards repairing their relationship.

“Don’t you dare even try to take your wallet out.”

Sam sighed. “Dean, I can’t let you—“

“Let me what?” he asked. “I literally own this place. There’s no way in hell my baby brother is going to pay for a meal here.”

“Dean—“

“Sam,” Jess cut him off, putting her hand on his arm. She turned to Dean and Cas. “Thank you guys so much, this was great. Really.”

“You’re welcome,” Dean told her. “See? At least Jess has manners.”

“We should do this again,” Cas said quickly. “We could try another couples’ dinner next week. Invite Charlie and Gilda again.”

There was a unanimous agreement.

“I’ll be right back,” Jess said, standing up. “I have to use the ladies room, excuse me.”

Cas watched her go and stood up as well. “If you will excuse me as well, I just remembered that I have to discuss something with Benny.”

Dean and Sam watched him leave the room, closing it silently behind himself.

“It was almost like they planned that,” Sam said.

“They might have, they kept giving each other weird looks during dinner.”

“Oh I know, the _the Winchesters need to talk more_ look.”

“Novak,” Dean corrected automatically.

“What?” Sam asked.

“It’s Novak now. I’m, uh, not a Winchester anymore,” Dean told him.

“What, seriously?” Sam asked.

“Yeah, why?” Dean sat taller in his chair and puffed his chest out. “You got something to say about that?”

Sam held up his hands in surrender. “No, no,” he said. “I guess it just didn’t occur to me that you might change your name.”

Dean allowed himself to deflate into a slightly more normal posture and shrugged. “I wanted to take Cas’ name.”

“That’s cool, man,” Sam said with a nervous little smile. “Really.” There was a short, slightly uncomfortable pause.

“How long do you think they’re going to give us?” Sam asked.

“Bet you five bucks they’re listening in at the door.” Dean raised his brows at him.

“They aren’t listening in,” Sam said, rolling his eyes.

“You just don’t want to take the bet because you know I’m right.”

Sam smiled and shook his head but didn’t say anything.

Dean cleared his throat. “So, uh, Sam,” he said. “Did you, um, happen to tell dad about me?”

“Of course,” he said. Dean felt his heart stop as the blood drained from his face. Sam continued, “I mean, he’s not answering his phone, so I just left a message after that first time I saw you at the grocery store and you ran away.” Sam paused for Dean to cut in with something like, _I did not_ run away _, I just [insert lame excuse here]_ but he stayed silent. “Dean?”

“Does he—uh—does he know where I am?” Dean asked.

Sam furrowed his brow in concern. “I mean, I think he knows where I’m going to law school, but I had sort of assumed that you were still living the nomadic lifestyle so I just told him that you were still alive. Which, you know, was what we were worried about these past five years.”

Dean let out a sigh of relief, not rising to the bait of Sam’s anger.

Sam’s brows drew down even lower. “Why?”

“I just, I don’t want him to know, okay?” Dean said.

“Dean, that’s really not fair. He’s our dad. He just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“Just don’t tell him, okay? If he calls you back, don’t tell him where I am.”

“Why do you care if he knows where you are?” he asked. “He’s known where I was these past five years and the only time he ever came to see me was when he asked for help looking for you.”

“Look, Sam, you don’t need to know why, just don’t tell him.”

“But why?” Sam asked, seemingly unable to let go of how unfair he thought it was.

“Because I don’t fucking want him to know where I am,” Dean gritted out through his teeth.

“Fine,” Sam said. “I won’t tell him.”

There was an uneasy silence between them.

“It would have been nice to know you were alive, though,” Sam said.

Dean rubbed his temples. He had a whole arsenal of things to say in response. _It would have been nice to not have been abandoned with our abusive father. It would have been nice if you’d trusted me enough to tell me you were leaving. It would have been nice not having to try and patch myself up with a concussion and a broken arm._ Instead, he said, “Yeah, well. We don’t always get what we want.”

Sam opened his mouth to fight back, but Dean cut him off.

“I don’t want to start another fight, alright? I want,” he sighed. “I want this to work. But man, I can’t talk about shit with dad, okay? I _won’t_. So just drop it.”

“Alright,” Sam replied. “Okay. I’m sorry. I want this to work, too. There were… there were definitely times I wish I could have picked up the phone and called you, man.”

Dean nodded. “Me, too,” he said softly.

The door opened and both Cas and Jess walked in together.

Dean wiped the sentimental look from his face and replaced it with a grin. “Told you they were listening in at the door, Sammy. Did you see that synchronized entrance after we had a little moment?”

“Aw, you two had a moment?” Jess cooed.

“Adorable,” Cas added.

Everyone laughed at the look on Dean’s face.

“You incriminated yourself on that one, Dean,” Sam said.

“Incriminated?” Dean said. “Jeez, year one of law school and you’re already talking like a lawyer.”

“I think I’m going to take that as a compliment,” Sam said.

“Bitch,” Dean said.

“Jerk,” Sam replied with a smile.


	6. Chapter 6

The following months only saw the brothers getting closer, the only rocky moments when Sam tried to insist on Dean opening up about why he couldn’t tell Dad where he was even though he had finally returned Sam’s call and inquired more about Dean.

“Is it because you don’t want to hunt anymore?” Sam asked one day. The two of them had stepped outside with their beers, while Cas, Jess, Charlie, and Gilda remained inside playing the game that Charlie had brought over.

Dean sighed. He was getting a little tired of these surprise talk attacks.

“Because, I mean, I get it. I don’t want to hunt anymore either, but dad has never tried to get me to go back. I mean, yeah, I have to deal with the disappointment and occasional yelling over stupid shit, but he only calls in like once every three months.”

“It’s not about the hunting,” Dean said.

“Then what—“

“Look, you were the favorite, okay?” Sam burst into laughter, but Dean continued over him. “You were the favorite,” he repeated, louder, “so you don’t know how bad he could get.”

“ _I_ don’t know how bad he could get?” Sam laughed. “Dude, all me and dad ever did was fight.”

“Yeah, I know,” Dean said. “Trust me, I was the one who had to go in and break them up. So I know how much you fought.”

“Then you can’t seriously be trying to tell me that _I_ was the favorite.”

Dean took a long drink of his beer. “Let’s just drop this, okay?”

A silence settled between them long enough for Dean to think Sam had heeded his word.

“Just tell me what I don’t know here, Dean,” Sam said. “I mean, I’ve realized that I must have missed stuff when we were growing up, but—“

“Sam,” Dean cut him off. “Drop it. It’s fine, alright? But if you try to get me to talk about this one more time, I swear I am going to snap and probably punch you in the face.”

“Fine,” Sam conceded. “Fine. We won’t talk about it. We’ll just sit here and drink our beers and you can brood in silence.”

Dean bit his cheek to keep from commenting. If he opened his mouth right now the only thing that was going to come out was an insult. Or worse, the truth.

The sliding glass door opened behind them and Cas poked his head out. “Dean, I do not understand this game. Come be on my team.”

Dean snorted and tipped his beer bottle back to drain the last of it into his mouth. “Sure thing, babe. Let’s go kick some ass.” He pushed himself up from where he had been sitting on the deck and walked over to his husband, leaning down to whisper in his ear, “Thank you.”

Cas just pulled his face over so he could kiss him. “You were looking a little desperate.”

Dean kissed him again.

“Come on, Sammy,” Dean said. “Let’s go play Risk before Charlie decides to make us play monopoly again.”

\--

Cas and Dean won the game.

“You totally lied about not understanding this game,” Sam accused.

Charlie snorted. “Is that what he told you? He hustled you, my friend. I hope you didn’t put any money down.”

“Cas has never lost a game,” Dean said proudly, throwing an arm around his shoulder and hugging him to his side. “My little strategist.”

Cas kept his face stoic as he helped Charlie gather all of the little army men and put them back in the Risk box. “You don’t act this happy when I beat you,” he said.

“Hey, we got close last time,” Charlie piped up.

“Yes, but then I achieved world domination,” Cas replied.

“I still say you cheated,” Dean told him.

“Ah, yes,” Cas said. “I cheated when you and Charlie were the ones making deals to team up and take me down before the game even started.”

“Well, we had to do something,” Charlie said. “You’re ruthless.”

Cas just shrugged and placed the lid on the box.

“Well,” Gilda said. “As fun as it’s been getting our asses kicked by the Novaks here, I think we need to head out.”

Dean and Charlie turned puppy dog eyes on her.

Gilda rolled her eyes. “We have this little thing called work.”

“Dean’s my boss, he won’t care if I’m late.”

“Well not all of us can have our best friend set our schedule,” Gilda told her. “Now come on, sweetheart, I have to be up at five tomorrow.”

There were sympathetic groans around the table before Jess turned to Sam.

“We should go, too.”

“Yeah, I have class tomorrow morning,” Sam agreed.

They all said their goodbyes and left Dean and Cas alone in their house. The two of them retired to their bedroom where they stripped down to their boxers and cuddled up under the covers.

“I think I want to go on a hunt,” Dean said.

Cas sighed. “I thought you were done hunting.”

“Yeah, well. I need to do something before I snap.” He let out a frustrated groan. “I mean, if Sam asks me one more time why I don’t want dad to know where I am, I might kill him.”

Cas ran a hand up Dean’s back, lingering over each knob of his spine. “Why don’t you tell him? It will get him to stop asking.”

Dean snorted. “It’ll get him to stop asking about dad, it won’t stop the onslaught of all the other questions that are going to be worse.” He fidgeted into a more comfortable position at Cas’ side. “Besides, I don’t want him to feel bad about it, you know? I did it so he would never have to know about it. I just wanted the kid to be okay for as long as he could be. You know, I kept him from figuring out about hunting until he was like seven?”

“That’s very admirable, Dean,” Cas told him softly. “But he’s not seven anymore. He’s asking you for the truth and he’s old enough to handle it.”

“No, Cas,” Dean said. “It’s not happening.”

“Dean—“

“It’s my decision.”

“Okay,” Cas said. “But if you are actually going on that hunt, I’m going with you.”

“I don’t need a babysitter, Cas.”

“I don’t care what you need,” Cas said. “I’m not letting you go on a hunt alone. Not after you came back with a broken arm last time.”

“It was a hairline fracture and I was _fine_ ,” Dean insisted.

“Well, now you’ll be more than fine,” Cas said. “And this way, if the hunt is farther away we can stay in a nice hotel room and make a vacation out of it.”

“Fine,” Dean said. “But we are going to stay in a really fancy hotel. And I’m raiding the mini bar.”

Cas laughed. “You can even order the lobster from room service, if you want.”

Dean smiled and kissed the closest part of Cas he could reach, which happened to be his shoulder. “Damn, having money is _amazing_.”

Cas laughed again.

“And maybe after that, we can go to the cabin. Let you stretch your wings a bit.”

Castiel smiled. “It has been a while since I’ve done that. Can we skip the hunt and get straight to the flying?”

Dean buried his smile into Cas’ shoulder. “I’ll call Bobby up tomorrow and see if he has anything that needs doing around here. If not we’ll skip it and get straight to the good stuff for you.”

\--

There was a hunt a few towns over, but it was a simple salt and burn and they took care of it pretty much upon arrival. Hunting things is a lot easier when you’ve got a nearly indestructible husband at your side.

They stayed one night in the fanciest hotel they could find where they ordered shrimp cocktails and champagne from room service just because they could and left the next day to spend a few days in their cabin.

Cas climbed out of the impala and twisted his back, hearing the little pops that signified that he had been stationary for far too long. He peeled his black tee off and threw it at Dean who was getting their bags from the backseat. It hit him square in the face and he yelped at the unexpectedness of it.

“Hey!” he said, tearing it off of his head and balling it up. “What was that for?”

“For making me wait so long to do this,” Cas replied, and with a shake of his shoulders, large leathery wings unfolded themselves from his back, stretching wide.

“Yeah, yeah,” Dean said, hoisting their bag onto his shoulder. “Be back by dinner, alright?”

Cas grinned. “You know I would never miss a meal.”

\--

Dean called Bobby while he was browning meat for the chili he was making for dinner that night.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Bobby!” Dean said.

“Dean,” Bobby replied. “How’d the hunt go?”

“Fine, fine,” he said. “Just a salt and burn, nothing an old, retired hunter like me couldn’t handle.”

He could practically hear Bobby’s eye roll through the phone. “If you’re old, what the hell does that make me?”

Dean snickered. “You are getting pretty far up in years, there, aren’t you Bobby? Maybe you should start thinking of retiring yourself.”

He heard a grunt over the line. “Not all of us can have rich husbands that let us quit out day job.”

Dean grinned and felt a warmth spread through him just thinking of Cas. “Yeah, I can’t tell you enough how much I recommend marrying rich. Best thing I’ve ever done.”

“How is he with the whole huntin’ thing, anyhow?” Bobby asked. “What does he think you do?”

“Oh, he knows what I do,” Dean said. “I explained everything to him.” Dean left out the part where he didn’t actually need to do any explaining since Cas was definitely already in the know, but what Bobby didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.

“You told him and he didn’t run?” Bobby said. “Well, damn, boy. He’s even better than I thought.”

“You have no idea.” Dean couldn’t stop smiling for the rest of their conversation. Not even talk about Dean’s father, who was now starting to hound Bobby for any information on Dean, could dampen Dean’s mood.

“One of these days you’re going to have to introduce me to this Castiel, fella,” Bobby said when their conversation started coming to a close.

Still feeling buoyed by the success of Sam and Cas’ interactions, Dean said, “Sure thing, man. We just took some vacation time to go on the hunt, but maybe in a few weeks or so. It just depends on how busy I get at the shop.”

“I keep tellin’ ya to hire more people, Dean. You can’t do everything by yourself.”

“I know, I know,” Dean said. “I hired a new girl, Tracy, the other day. Gave her an old beat up Ford to work on while I’m gone, so hopefully if she works out I’ll be able to take some time off a little quicker.”

“Yeah, well the quicker the better. Got to make sure this guy ain’t trying to pull one over on your rusty ass.”

Dean started giggling, thinking of all of the jokes he could make about Cas and his ass, but refrained from saying any of them. Bobby was like his father, after all. He didn’t want the old man to know too much about his sex life. “Oh yeah, he decided to wait five years into our relationship to finally try and take me out. He even married me just to lure me into a false sense of security.”

“Yeah, yeah, idjit,” Bobby grumbled. “My FBI phone is ringin’, I gotta go.”

“Later, Bobby,” Dean said and hung up, tossing the phone behind him, onto the kitchen table.

\--

Castiel didn’t return until sunset and Dean’s first round of pacing.

“Dammit, Cas, I told you to be back in time for dinner,” Dean said, getting himself all riled up and ready for a fight.

Cas just tilted his head to the side and pulled his wings in tightly to his back. “Isn’t this dinner time?”

Dean crossed his arms tightly over his chest. “Well, I mean, yeah” he admitted, “but you always get hungry like two hours before dinner and come to scrounge in the kitchen. I was getting worried.”

A little smile lifted the corner of Cas’ mouth and he strode over to Dean and leaned in to give him a soft kiss. “I promise that next time I’ll be home in time for my snack.”

Dean harrumphed. “I’m just saying,” he continued, trying to not let Cas’ kisses soothe his annoyed expression. “You could have told me that you wouldn’t be back until dinner.”

“But you forget,” Cas said, walking past him and into their bedroom so he could change out of his sweaty clothes, “you’re the psychic one. I can’t read your mind and know when you’re being ridiculous.”

“Oh my god, you are such an asshole,” Dean told him with a roll of his eyes, turning to follow Cas. He leaned in the doorway and watched as Cas stripped off his jeans and underwear, replacing them with fresh ones from their duffel.

“Yeah, but you like me anyway,” he grinned.

Dean snorted. “No, I _love_ you anyway. I don’t always like you. Especially when you’re too reasonable about shit that I want to be unreasonable about.”

“Well, at least you admit it. That’s the first step,” Cas said, walking by him and patting him on the cheek.

Dean grabbed his wrist and pulled him into a kiss. “You gunna keep your wings out, babe?”

“Until I have to get back in the car. I didn’t even realize how cramped they were. I’m not meant to hide them for so long. And now that our house is no longer a safe place—“

“Hey, that’s not fair,” Dean said. “I just want us to be safe, Cas. You’re the one who wanted the fucking bay windows at the front of the house.”

“They look nice, Dean,” Cas replied icily. “And they are equipped with this magical thing called a curtain.”

Dean sighed and pulled Cas closer with the grip on his wrist and rested their foreheads together. “I do miss them when they’re hidden,” he said softly, reaching out and running a hand up the leathery skin on one wing and trailing it along the deep blue scales at the top. “I know I’m being paranoid about all of this.”

“Yes, you are,” Cas told him. “I’m starting to feel like you’re ashamed of what I am.”

“No, Cas, never,” Dean said vehemently. “I mean, in the beginning I had to get over all of my hunter shit, but, fuck, Cas, I love what you are. Even if you get a bad rap for stealing virgins.”

Castiel pulled away from Dean and rolled his eyes. “I had _one_ cousin who was sloppy and suddenly everyone thinks all that we do is go out and steal virgins. And I’ll have you know, all of them were consenting adults.”

“Aw, Cas,” Dean cooed with a grin. “Are you sad that I wasn’t a virgin when we met?”

Cas pushed Dean lightly and walked away from him. “Don’t be an idiot, Dean. You know very well that I do not care what you did before we met. Now let’s go eat, I’m starving.”

\--

Cas started keeping his wings out at home as long as no one was over. Dean had forgotten how much he missed being wrapped in them on cold nights. They were leathery, but soft to the touch and Dean was finding it more and more difficult to get out of bed to go to work in the mornings. Especially when Cas didn’t want to let him.

“Babe, I have to go to work,” Dean murmured, trying to pull out of Cas’ cocoon.

“No,” he replied, squeezing his wings tighter around him.

Dean tried in vain to struggle free. “Come on, Cas,” Dean said. “I’ve been late every day this week. I’m the boss, I’m supposed to be setting a good example. These newbies are going to start thinking they can get away with anything.”

Cas just grunted. “Too tired.”

Dean rolled his eyes and tried to extricate himself again. “This must be what a fricken caterpillar feels like,” he muttered.

“You’re already a beautiful butterfly, Dean,” Cas told him sleepily.

Dean snorted and shoved at Cas as much as he could. “Well, thanks for that assessment, Cas, but I’ve really got to get going.” He gave up again with a sigh. “If you let me out of bed right now I’ll have time to suck you off before work.”

Cas opened one blue eye to peer at Dean. “No,” he said.

Dean groaned. “Since when do you turn down a perfectly good blow job?”

A slight frown touched Cas’ features. “I don’t like it when we have to rush,” he told him. “I like taking my time with you.” He ran a hand down Dean’s back, sliding over the smooth and freckled skin before grabbing his ass hard enough for Dean to let out a small yelp. 

“Ca-as,” Dean moaned, as Cas kneaded his flesh and began to gently rock their hips together. Cas fitted his mouth to Dean’s and swallowed his next moan.

Dean pulled away with a soft, “Fuck.” He kissed Cas again. “Handjobs in the shower. Final offer,” he said, a little breathlessly.

“Fine,” Cas acquiesced and finally allowed Dean to get up.

Dean was still late for work.

\--

“I think this makes four times this week,” Charlie said in lieu of a greeting.

“Yeah, well, Cas has been very persuasive this past week.” Dean gave her a suggestive eyebrow raise.

“Hey, Gilda moved in two weeks ago and _I_ still manage to make it to work on time. And we’re still in our honeymoon phase,” she batted her eyelashes at him. “You and Cas have been married, like, forever. I think it may be time to tone it down, old man.”

“What can I say, Charlie?” Dean said. “Our spark just refuses to fade.”

Charlie snorted. “Whatever, boss. You’ve got a new Chevy to work on this morning. I checked it out and the frame is salvageable, I think, but the inside needs a _lot_ of work. You’re probably going to have to go and beg some parts off of your secret source. And Tracy is almost done on the engine for the Ford so I told her you’d check it when she finished so she can start on her side project.”

“Side project?” Dean asked, turning back from the door of his office to face her. “What side project?”

“Oh, dude,” Charlie said excitedly. “She found this sweet VW bug that she wants to fix up. I told her it would be okay.”

“Did you just use the term ‘sweet’ and ‘VW bug’ in the same sentence?”

Charlie rolled her eyes. “Not all of us can be American muscle car purists, Dean.”

Dean grumbled to himself, probably about how they all _should_ be, but Charlie just rolled her eyes again.

“Oh!” she said before he could take another step into his office. “I left the applications you need to go over on your desk. Don’t worry, I weeded out all of the bad ones. But you have to pick some by tomorrow so that I can set up the interviews.”

“Charlie…” Dean groaned.

“Nope,” she said. “You can’t just hire one person and think that’s enough. You need more mechanics, Dean. Right now it’s you, Tracy, Ash, and Andy. And Andy is only part time. You can’t keep working yourself to death with the amount of jobs coming in.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Dean said. “I’ll look over the applications, okay? But if I don’t like anyone, then I’m not hiring them.”

“Fine, that’s fair,” Charlie told him. “But then I’ll just wait for a new batch of applications and let you go over those ones all by yourself without getting rid of the bad eggs first.”

“Ugh, fine,” Dean said. “I’ll go over them tonight and pick my favorites, happy?”

“Not until we get the next season of Firefly, like we deserve.”

Dean snorted. “Good luck with that.”

“It’s called positive thinking,” she said. “I’m putting it out into the universe. I figure the rest of the world probably is, too, so I’d say there’s a pretty high probability that the universe can hear it, at least.”

Dean shook his head and went into his office. He dropped his stuff off at his desk and spared a glance at the pile of applications on his desk before he stripped his jacket off and grabbing the jumpsuit he always kept in his office to change.

He spent his day checking out the Chevy and making a list of the things he’d need to ask if Bobby had lying around in his scrap yard. After that he went and checked on Tracy, making sure her work was up to scratch (it was, and Dean promised to lay off on the hands on approach now that he was sure she was capable).

His phone call with Bobby didn’t go exactly as planned. In fact, Bobby somehow guilted him into agreeing to come with Cas for a visit.

“If you want the parts, you’re going to have to come and look for them your own damn self. I’m getting too old to be scrounging around for all the crap you keep asking for.”

Dean panicked the entire way home that night, knowing that he had promised he and Cas would visit Bobby eventually, but definitely not expecting it to be _this weekend_. Maybe he could get away with bringing Sam? Bobby hadn’t seen Sam in a while, it would probably be good for them to see each other and catch up. It wasn’t Dean chickening out. He was just trying to protect Cas. Sam may not have figured out what Cas was, but Bobby was basically the best when it came to obscure shit and Cas definitely fell into that category.

Cas wasn’t home when Dean got there, so he went and took a long shower, trying to scrub as much grease off of himself as he could. His skin was tinged pink by the time he finished and he got out and wrapped a dark green towel around his waist.

“Hello, Dean,” Cas said, from where he was sitting on their bed reading a book. His wings were laid out on either side of him.

“Hey, babe,” Dean replied. “When did you get home?”

“About five minutes ago,” he said. “I brought back some books I think you’d like, too.”

Dean grinned and walked over to kiss his husband. Every Thursday Cas went to the library, sometimes for five minutes to return a book, sometimes for hours as he poured through the collection to pick something new to read. Occasionally, he’d bring a few back for Dean that he thought he’d enjoy. He always did.

“How was work?” Cas asked, placing a bookmark on his page and laying his book aside.

Dean picked a pair of underwear out of the drawer, not bothering to check whether it was his or Cas’ (honestly, they didn’t even try to differentiate anymore), and slid them on. “It was alright. Tracy’s working out really well. Charlie is making me get a new employee anyway, though.”

Cas smiled. “Good. Then you’ll be able to be home even more often.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “You just want me to retire and spend all day at home like you.”

“Would that really be so bad?” Cas pouted.

Dean crawled over Cas and sat on his lap. “I think I’d go crazy if I didn’t have anything to do all day.”

“You’d have _me_ to do all day,” Cas replied, placing his hands on Dean’s hips and squeezing.

Dean leaned in for another kiss, giving him a fond shake of his head. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And your work ethic is bothersome.”

They kissed, sweet and chaste, but lengthy.

“Uh, Cas?” Dean said hesitantly after he pulled away.

“Yes, my love?” Cas replied, not taking his eyes from Dean’s lips and the pleasant dark pink color they had taken on.

“I sort of promised Bobby we would visit him this weekend,” he said quickly, flinching away in preparation for Cas’ reaction.

“I finally get to meet Bobby?” Cas asked, flicking his eyes up to Dean’s for a moment before settling back on his lips.

“Yes,” Dean said. “You’re not mad that I’m springing this on you, last minute?”

Cas rolled his eyes. “ _You_ are the one who has been worried about our meeting. Not me.”

Dean sighed and rested their foreheads together. “Babe, I just don’t want him to find out what you are.”

“He won’t,” Cas told him. “The usual tests don’t work on me. He will never know.”

“And if he does figure it out?” Dean asked, closing his eyes.

“He won’t.”

“But if he does,” Dean said, pulling away to look Cas in the eye.

“You know, I managed to convince you that I was alright. I think Bobby might be willing to listen, as well.”

“Yeah,” Dean said, “but I had the whole falling in love with you thing going on to help. I’d really prefer Bobby to keep his hands off.”


	7. Chapter 7

“Thanks for letting me tag along,” Sam said, dumping his bag in the trunk of the impala. “Man, it’s weird seeing this so deep.”

“No false bottom,” Dean told him, dropping his and Cas’ bag next to Sam’s. “No need.”

“That’s still so weird to me, man,” Sam said. “I mean, I get it, I do. But I just never thought you’d give it up.”

Dean shrugged and closed the trunk. He leaned against it as he watched Cas locking the door to their house. “Hey, Sammy…”

Sam mimicked Dean’s stance. “Yeah?”

“You ever think that maybe hunting wasn’t exactly…” Dean sighed. “I dunno, like a good thing?”

“Like for us?” Sam asked. “Because no, I don’t think children should have been raised in—“

“No, like,” Dean rubbed a hand over his face. “Like, do you ever wonder sometimes whether all the things we killed deserved it?”

There was silence for a few moments. “Do you want my honest opinion?”

“That is why I’m asking.”

At the door, Cas dropped his keys and bent to pick them up.

“I think that we did a lot of good,” Sam said softly. “I think we saved a lot of people.”

“So you think they all deserved it? All the creatures we killed?”

Even softer, Sam said, “No.” He sighed and ran a hand through his overly long hair (according to Dean, anyway). “I think that dad got tunnel vision a lot and if it had fangs then he killed it regardless of whether it was dangerous or not.”

Dean nodded. “Yeah. That’s what I think, too.”

Sam opened his mouth to say something, anything to wipe the sad look off of Dean’s face, but it was that moment that Cas walked up, pushing his aviators on, and said, “Ready to hit the road?”

Dean grinned immediately, no trace of that sadness left. “Obviously,” Dean replied. “We were just waiting for your clumsy ass to finish locking up.”

Cas rolled his eyes and opened the door to the backseat.

“Oh, Cas, no,” Sam said, throwing his hands up to try and stop him. “You sit up front.”

“Thank you, Sam, but you may have the front. It is far too early in the morning for me to be any sort of good company. I was planning on sleeping.” He slid into the back without another word and closed the door behind himself.

“It’s true,” Dean said, clapping Sam on the shoulder. “Dude’s useless until at least ten. And then he still needs a cup of coffee and full meal before he’ll play nice.”

Sam snorted and got into the front seat. Dean followed suit on the driver’s side. They both turned around to look at Cas and saw that he had already fallen asleep, curled up like a cat on the backseat.

“Dude,” Sam whispered, “how is he already asleep?”

Dean snorted. “It’s his gift,” Dean said, not bothering to lower his voice. The engine roared to life as he turned the key in the ignition. Cas merely snuffled and curled himself tighter.

“That’s crazy,” Sam said. “I wish I could do that, instead of staying up all night stressing about finals.”

“Don’t wish that just yet,” Dean told him. “You haven’t heard him start to snore.”

Sam just grinned and shrugged. “Yeah, but that would be Jess’ problem.”

Dean shook his head, albeit fondly. “That’s cold, Sammy. I’m going to tell her you said that.”

“Please don’t,” Sam said.

Dean just laughed.

\--

“Took you idjits long enough,” Bobby said in lieu of greeting.

“Sorry, Bobby,” Dean said. “We stopped to grab something to eat on the way.”

Bobby rolled his eyes and opened the door wider for the three men standing on his stoop to come in. All three were sprayed liberally with holy water upon entering.

“Great first impression, Bobby,” Dean said, wiping his face off with his sleeve.

Bobby just shrugged. “This him?” he asked, coming to stand in front of Cas.

“Yes, sir,” Cas said, holding out a hand.

“Good to meet you, boy,” he replied, taking his hand and giving it a firmer-than-necessary shake.

“You, too, sir,” Cas replied. “Dean speaks very highly of you.”

“There’s no need to call me sir, boy,” he said, ignoring the compliment. “Just call me Bobby.”

“Thank you, Bobby,” Cas said with a small smile.

Bobby turned to Sam, then. “You look like you’ve grown three feet since the last time I saw you.”

“I may have had a growth spurt or two since then,” Sam said sheepishly.

Bobby snorted as he turned and led the three of them further into his house. “I only have the one spare room, so I’m guessing Sam is going to have to take the couch.”

“That’s fine,” Sam said quickly before Dean or Cas could put up a token protest.

“Good,” Bobby said. “Dean, why don’t you show Cas around. I’ve got to go check on dinner.”

“Damn, I thought I smelled something good,” Dean said, trying to peer around Bobby into the kitchen.

Bobby shooed him up the stairs, Cas following behind him with a small smile. Dean turned left at the second floor landing and led Cas to the spare room which he opened with an exaggerated flourish. Cas rolled his eyes and gave him a gentle kiss before moving into the room and sitting down on the full bed which let out a soft squeak with his weight.

“Well, I guess that rules out fooling around,” Cas said with a slight frown.

Dean dropped their duffel at the foot of the bed and then crawled over Cas to straddle his waist. He draped his arms around Cas’ shoulders and brought their faces close together. “I’m sure we can figure something out,” he breathed onto Cas’ lips.

Cas grinned and brought his hands around Dean’s waist. He hummed. “I’m not sure I want to make a bad impression on Bobby.”

“He’ll get over it,” Dean whispered, finally closing the last few inches and kissing Cas. They continued for a few minutes, keeping it chaste(-ish) until they heard an exasperated voice from the open door.

“Seriously, guys? We’ve barely been here five minutes and you already have your tongues down each other’s throats?”

Dean pulled away from Cas to turn around and give Sam a wink. “What can I say? I’m irresistible.”

Cas rolled his eyes and pushed Dean off of his lap.

“Hey!” Dean said from the ground while Sam burst into laughter.

“You’re not that irresistible,” Cas replied simply, standing and helping Dean to his feet.

“Bobby sent me up to tell you guys that dinner is ready,” Sam said once his laughter had subsided.

“We’ll be right down,” Cas told him.

Sam left with a nod, still chuckling lightly to himself.

“That hurt, you asshole,” Dean said, shoving Cas’ shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” Cas replied, unable to keep a grin off of his face.

“Oh yeah, real sorry. See if I feel like fooling around with you later.” He crossed his arms and turned around.

Cas merely walked up to him and wrapped his arms around his waist, placing his head in the juncture of his neck, giving it a light kiss. “I’m sorry,” he said softly. “Want me to give it a kiss and make it all better?”

“Yes,” Dean said petulantly.

Cas gave him a quick squeeze. “After dinner. I’m starving.” He let go of Dean and hurried out the door of their room.

Dean rolled his eyes and followed. “You’re always starving,” he called to Cas, who was already halfway down the stairs.

\--

Dinner was a pleasant affair. Bobby was gruff, but obviously cared about Sam and Dean. And once Dean brought up Cas’ ridiculous knowledge of lore, Bobby was sold on him as well.

“You sure you ain’t a hunter?” Bobby asked after Cas regaled him with his knowledge on all things supernatural.

“Positive,” Cas replied. “Although, I supposed I’ve always lived in the periphery of the hunting world. But I never went on a hunt until I went on one with Dean.”

“Wendigo,” Dean recalled. “Tough son of a bitch.”

“Jeez, what an introduction,” Sam said.

“He was amazing,” Dean told them. “Blasted the fucker with a fireball.”

“He was coming after you,” Cas said. “I had to do something.”

“Amazing,” Dean repeated with a dazed smile. He looked over to Cas and they gazed into each other’s eyes with soft smiles

Bobby and Sam looked at each other and shared a commiserating look. Dean and Cas had been making goo goo eyes at each other throughout the entire meal. Sam was more used to it, but he had never been without Jess to distract him. He now understood what Charlie meant when she said they were sickeningly sweet together (or, as she put it, gag worthy).

“Aw, ain’t you two sweet,” Bobby cooed at them, expecting Dean’s usual brash dismissal of such things.

Dean shifted his smile into a cocky grin. “What can I say, Bobby? We’re meant for each other.”

\--

Bobby and Sam remained at the table long after Dean and Cas had left under the pretense of showing Cas around the junkyard, which Sam thought was a pretty flimsy excuse for fooling around in a junker. But hey, as long as he didn’t have to hear anything, he was happy. He’d made the mistake of showing up a little too early to meet Dean and Cas for lunch one day and was met with sounds that still haunted him at night. (Seriously, though, who actually _growls_ like that? Sam was too mortified to think about it.)

“So, Bobby,” Sam started, popping open the cap to a beer and taking a swig. “How long have you known about Cas?”

Bobby narrowed his eyes at Sam. “I ain’t apologizing for not tellin’ ya about him. Dean asked me not to, and after what that boy had been through, I’d thought it best to go along with his wishes.”

“What does that mean? ‘What he’d been through’?” Sam asked, caught off guard at the direction of Bobby’s answer. He was also a little annoyed that everyone seemed to be taking Dean’s side with the whole ‘woe-is-me, Sam abandoned me’ shtick. “I mean, not to sound self-centered or anything, but what about what I went through? I thought he was _dead_.”

“I told you he wasn’t dead, idjit,” Bobby replied, taking a drink from his beer. “And I didn’t say anything about what you’d been through. I know you went through a lot. John is a piece of work.”

Sam sighed. “Just…” He scrubbed a hand through his hair. “Why couldn’t you have told me you were talking to him? Just so that I could have known _for sure_.”

Bobby rolled his eyes. “And if I had told you that, what would you have done? Left well enough alone?”

Sam looked down and couldn’t think of a response that Bobby wouldn’t see through in a second.

“Dean asked me to help him out,” Bobby told him. “And damn, I’d never heard the boy sounding so happy about life. I wasn’t about to mess with that. If he wanted his privacy I was damn well going to give it to him.” He paused to take another swig of beer. “Besides, he was the only one picking up a phone to give me a call every now and then. I didn’t hear from you until you came lookin’ for him.”

Sam began peeling the edge of the label of his beer with a thumb, avoiding Bobby’s guilt tripping look. “Yeah, uh, sorry about that, Bobby. I just… I guess I was just trying to get away from the whole hunting thing.”

“Dean was, too,” he said. “He still managed to do both. And introduce me to his boyfriend. I had to find out about your girlfriend through him.”

Sam did catch Bobby’s eye at that one. “You know about Jess?” he asked sheepishly.

“No thanks to you,” Bobby replied. “Dean didn’t know he was telling me new information. I think he figured that you’d already told me. Having been with her for three years now.”

“Yeah, I mean—“

Bobby waved his spluttering attempt at an apology away. “It’s alright,” Bobby said. “I don’t expect you to call me once a week and check in like some worried mother with empty nest syndrome. You wanted to strike out on your own, and that’s just fine. But that’s not what Dean wanted.”

Sam felt a small spark of anger flare up inside of him. “I couldn’t stay just because Dean wanted me to, Bobby. That’s not fair to me.”

Bobby raised an unimpressed brow. “Did I say you should have stayed?” he asked. “Because I think the best thing you ever did was leave your daddy behind. You made something of yourself, Sam. And I’m damn proud of your for it, don’t ever think I’m not.”

Sam immediately looked away, afraid that the sheen of tears covering his eyes would give away how much that meant to him. He was pretty sure that Dean was proud of him, too, but he was also pretty sure that this was the first time the words had ever been spoken aloud to him by someone aside from Jess. He didn’t know why this was different, it just sort of was.

“I’m just trying to tell you that Dean was left behind. And dammit if that boy hasn’t been the collateral damage his whole life.” Bobby paused, seemingly to collect his thoughts, beard twitching. “But away from John he wasn’t, away from John that boy was happy for the first time in a hell of a long while. And I wasn’t going to ruin it for him. Dean would be better off if John thought he was dead. I never wanted to lie to you, Sam, but you made the decision to leave Dean behind. I was just following Dean’s decision to stay that way.”

Sam nodded a few times and cleared his throat before letting out a weak chuckle. “You know,” he said, trying to keep his voice clear. “When I started this conversation, I was just trying to ask you if you were as surprised as me when you found out Dean was gay.”

Bobby let out a snort and took another drink of his beer. “Please,” he said. “The way that kid stared at Harrison Ford in movies? He damn near wore out my _Raiders_ tape.”

“Hey, I used to watch _Raiders_ all the time with him,” Sam protested.

“Yeah, but you hit puberty and your eyes went straight to Marion. Dean’s stayed right on Indy. Wasn’t too hard to figure out the kid batted for both teams after that.”

\--

Dean and Cas were stretched out in the back of a rusty old pick up watching the sun set on the horizon.

“Thank you for sharing this with me, Dean,” Cas said softly, relaxing further into Dean.

Dean planted a kiss on his temple. “Sorry it took me so long.”

“You were raised a hunter,” Cas shrugged. “I get it.”

Dean pulled away a little to fix Cas with a hard stare. “Babe, you know it wasn’t that I didn’t trust you, right? I mean, hell, Cas, I’ve pretty much trusted you with my life since the moment we met.”

Cas smiled. “That was our souls bonding. It was instinct, just like me trusting a hunter.”

“It’s a good thing you could feel that soul bond thingy. I don’t even know how I would have survived that night without you.”

Cas gave him a stern look. “You know I don’t like thinking about that.”

Dean tightened the arm he had around Cas. “Sorry.” He gave him another kiss on the side of his head. “You saved me, babe. You don’t have to think about any what ifs.”

Grumbling, Cas relaxed back into his arms.

“We should probably go back in soon,” Dean said once the sun was completely below the horizon. “It’s getting pretty cold.”

“I could warm you up,” Cas said with a grin.

“Whatever you’re thinking is inappropriate,” Dean told him, hiding his smirk.

“It doesn’t have to be sex,” Cas told him. “I could just breathe a little—“

“Hey—hey, shh!” Dean clapped a hand over Cas’ mouth. “That’s the most inappropriate! This is a _hunter’s_ house!”

“I was joking, Dean,” Cas said, peeling Dean’s hand from his face.

“Well no jokes about you-know-what here,” Dean told him sternly. “You almost gave me a heart attack.”

Cas rolled his eyes. “I’m the one with the super sensitive hearing. There’s no one out here but us. Besides, I was just talking about soul bonding and you were perfectly fine with that.”

“Yeah, well, that’s easy to explain. I’d just say you were a major sap and talking about how we’re _soul mates_ or whatever.”

“We are soul mates,” Cas replied, matter of fact. “And if one of us is the sap in this relationship, it is most definitely _you_.”

“What?” Dean spluttered. “I am _not_.”

“Yes, you are,” Cas replied. At Dean’s disgruntled look, he added, “Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone. I’d hate for you to cover it up with false bravado. I like that you’re a sap. It’s adorable.”

“I am not adorable,” Dean grumbled. “I’m fierce. Like… like a lion or something.”

“I can see that,” Cas said.

“Told you.”

“Yeah,” Cas continued. “You’re like Simba. He was adorable, too.”

Dean pushed him. “You’re an ass.”

Cas just laughed. “Aw, don’t be like that, my love. Simba was fierce, too. Adorable, but fierce. Just like you.” Cas pinched one of Dean’s cheeks.

“Oh, that’s it, asshole,” Dean said, tackling him back onto the bed of the truck. He pinned Cas’ arms above his head. “You’re going to pay for that.”

Cas just grinned as Dean commenced some of the aforementioned inappropriate activities.

\--

The next morning found Dean out in the junkyard scouring the broken down heaps for any salvageable parts that he could use back home. He’d already found three things on his list by the time Bobby found him.

“Here,” Bobby said and shoved a mug of steaming coffee into his hands.

“Thanks,” Dean replied, straightening from where he was bent over into the innards of a rusted out truck.

“Find everything you’re looking for?” he asked, taking a sip of his own coffee.

“Just about,” Dean said. “There’re a couple of things I was going to look for just to have on hand since we have like three cars coming in next month, but I’ve found everything that I need for what we’ve got right now.”

“You have enough people to help you working on all those cars, boy?” Bobby asked. “Or are you just working yourself to death?”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Jeez, you been talkin’ to Cas?” he asked. “Because that guy wouldn’t know what a normal workday looked like if it bit him in the ass.”

“Neither would you,” Bobby retorted easily.

“I’m fine, Bobby,” Dean said in exasperation. “I’m hiring more people next week to help with the workload.”

“Good,” Bobby grunted. “I’d hate for you to get out of the life only to be killed by overworking yourself.”

“I’m not completely out of the life,” Dean muttered. “I take a hunt every now and then.”

“Ghosts?” Bobby scoffed. “Boy, the scraps I throw you ain’t nothin’ and you know it.”

“Gee, Bobby, way to make a guy feel important,” Dean replied dryly.

“I didn’t say that,” Bobby told him. “I’m only trying to say that you don’t have to keep hunting just because it’s what you think you should do. You have an out. No one would blame you if you took it.”

Dean finally took a sip of his coffee, relishing the bitter taste in the early morning sun. “I know that,” he said softly. Then he shrugged. “I guess I don’t mind the little hunts so much, you know?” A lascivious grin spread across his face. “Besides, I really just use them as an excuse to have crazy hotel sex that I don’t have to clean up after.”

Bobby, who had been taking a sip of his own coffee, spit it out at Dean’s words. “What the hell’s wrong with you, boy?” he demanded, wiping his mouth off on his sleeve.

Dean just laughed and laughed. “Sorry, Bobby,” he snickered, but Bobby just kept scowling.

Bobby shook his head and walked back towards the house, muttering, “Don’t know how Cas puts up with you,” under his breath.

“You know it takes at least two to have the crazy hotel sex, right?” Dean called after him.

“Stop talkin’, idjit!”

Dean kept chuckling to himself as he went about looking for the rest of the things on his list. Once he’d finished and wandered back to the house, Cas was up and sitting at the dining room table nursing a cup of coffee and looking like he wished he could inject caffeine straight into his bloodstream.

“Morning, sunshine,” Dean said brightly, planting a kiss atop his mop of hair.

Cas narrowed his eyes in a glare.

“Aw, someone’s grumpy this morning,” Dean cooed, sliding into a seat next to him. “You want me to make you some breakfast?”

Cas managed a nod so Dean just grinned and gave him a quick peck on the lips. “Eggs and bacon okay?” he asked, standing up and walking around the kitchen as if it were his own, grabbing the necessary ingredients and utensils. Cas grunted in the affirmative and fifteen minutes later Dean was plopping a plate overflowing with food down in front of him.

Cas gave a contented little sigh and began eating. Only after he had finished half of his plate did he notice that Dean was just sitting next to him.

“You’re not eating?”

Dean just grinned. “I ate when I woke up. You know, at a normal hour.”

Cas rolled his eyes and continued eating. “Where’s everyone else?”

Dean shrugged. “Bobby’s probably doing research for someone and I have no idea where the hell Sam is.”

Almost as if on cue, the screen door banged open and a sweat covered Sam stumbled in and sat down at the table.

“Were you just jogging?” Dean asked, in the same tone of voice one would use if inquiring about eating your own toe jam.

Sam shot him one of his patented bitch faces (and dammit if Dean hadn’t actually _missed_ those). “Yes, Dean. Some people like to be healthy.”

“Whatever, Sasquatch,” Dean said. “There’s some extra grub on the stove if you’re hungry. Although it’s not as healthy as your highness would like.”

Sam ignored his last comment and got up to grab himself some of the leftover eggs and bacon.

Dean just couldn’t stop smiling. Bobby approved of Cas, Sam was back in his life, he didn’t have to worry about hunting interfering with his normal life. He had it all. And the past five years with Cas had really helped him come a long way in not always waiting for the other shoe to drop. Things were going good—great, even—definitely better than he had ever dreamed that they would, and maybe that was okay. Maybe things could stay like this. Maybe some people really do get their happy endings.

The phone rang then, and perhaps Dean should have seen it as an omen, but he ignored it and went about cleaning up the plates from Cas and Sam’s late breakfast.

After thanking Dean, Sam went upstairs to grab a quick shower, leaving Cas and Dean to wash and dry the dishes.

“Thank you for making me breakfast,” Cas said solemnly.

Dean just bumped his hip with his own where they stood at the sink. “No problem, babe. You know I like to feed you.”

A small smile graced Cas’ features. “I love you very much.”

Dean leaned over and kissed him, tasting the leftover saltiness from the bacon. “Pretty sure the feeling’s mutual.”

“Dean!” Bobby called from the other room.

Dean craned his head back and yelled, “What?”

“You and Cas need to get upstairs, now,” he said, coming into the kitchen to pierce them with a grave look.

“What? Why?” Dean asked.

“You’re daddy’s on his way here right now.”

Dean dropped the plate he had been washing, hearing the dull clatter as it landed in the sink as if through a filter.

“I told him not to come,” Bobby continued, and Dean still only heard it faintly. “But that idjit won’t listen. Says he’s had a breakthrough in your mother’s case and needs my help.”

“How long until he gets here?” Cas asked, seeing that Dean was still in shock. “Maybe we could just leave.”

Bobby shook his head. “He called me when he was already turning onto the street. He’d see the impala if you even made it out of the house before he got here.”

Cas nodded. “Even so, won’t he see the impala parked outside?”

“You boys parked in the back, so he shouldn’t see it. If he sees it then I’ll stop him.”

“Thank you, Bobby,” Cas told him gravely.

Dean jumped at the touch to his shoulder.

“Dean, we need to get upstairs,” Cas said, guiding him towards the stairs.

“I don’t want to see him,” Dean whispered.

“You won’t, Dean,” Cas told him. “We’re going upstairs. You won’t see him at all, I promise. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

They passed Sam on their way up the stairwell, his hair still wet and clothes with damp patches where he hadn’t quite dried all the way off.

“Whoa,” he said, upon seeing Dean’s white pallor. “What’s wrong?”

“You’re father—“ Cas began, but was cut off when the screen door banged open and they heard Bobby shouting in the distance.

“I told you to never set foot here again, John!”

Cas didn’t continue, figuring Sam got the idea, and instead wrapped an arm around Dean’s shoulders and led him up the stairs and to the room they were staying in. He sat Dean down on the bed.

“What the hell is dad doing here?” Sam asked, apparently having followed them. He seemed far more confused than worried.

“How the fuck should I know, Sam?” Dean spat, causing both Sam and Cas to jump a little at the vehemence, especially since he had just seemed catatonic. “You didn’t tell him I’d be here, did you?”

“What? Of course not,” Sam told him, hurt coloring his tone. “I mean, I still don’t know _why_ , but—“

“Will you fucking quit it with the _why_ thing?” Dean said. “If I wanted you to know why, I’d fucking tell you why.”

Sam opened his mouth to reply, most likely with something scathing, but Cas cut him off.

“Stop it, both of you. This is not helping the situation at hand.” He stared both of them down in turn until they both relented. Then he turned to Dean and sank down onto the bed next to him. “Will you be alright if I go downstairs?”

Dean immediately grabbed onto Cas’ arm. “No,” he told him. “You’re not going down there.”

“He doesn’t know who I am,” Cas replied. “Perhaps I could be of some assistance and help to get your father out of the house faster.”

Dean tightened his grip on Cas. “Don’t try and bullshit me, Cas.”

Cas kept his composure for a few more moments while looking Dean straight in the eye. “Dean…”

“I’m not an idiot, Cas,” Dean said.

Cas let out an explosive sigh and crossed his arm tightly across his chest.

“I feel like I’m missing something,” Sam said, looking back and forth from Dean and Cas. “I mean, Cas’ idea sounds pretty good to me. He knows tons of lore. He probably could help dad.”

“It’s not happening, Sam,” Dean told him curtly.

“But—“

“I said _no_ ,” Dean hissed. “Godamnit, Sam, just leave it.”

“Just tell me what I’m missing here,” Sam implored.

“It’s not of import,” Cas replied, refusing to look at anyone.

Sam narrowed his eyes at the both of them. “Uh, yeah, it kind of is,” Sam said. “You two are keeping so many things from me I don’t even know what I don’t know.”

“Then it shouldn’t keep you up at night,” Dean said. “And shut the door. I swear, if your sasquatch voice carries down the stairs I’m going to kill you.”

Visibly resisting the urge to slam the door, Sam closed it quietly. “What if dad stays here for a while? You just plan on staying up here all night?”

Dean scoffed. “Bobby isn’t going to let him stay that long. Honestly, dad’s lucky Bobby hasn’t shot him already.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “I don’t think Bobby was serious when he threatened to shoot dad, Dean. Besides, that was like fifteen years ago.”

“He wasn’t kidding,” Cas said.

Sam turned wide eyes to him. “You weren’t even there.”

Cas just shrugged. “Bobby was serious.”

“Okay,” Sam said, stretching the word out. “And you know this how, exactly? Did you and Bobby have a discussion about it?”

“No,” Cas told him calmly. Then he turned his piercing gaze on Sam. “But I suspect that Bobby and I are alike in many aspects, and I would like nothing more than to end John Winchester’s miserable existence.”

Sam’s jaw dropped while Dean put his head in his hands.

“Cas,” Dean warned.

Cas cocked his head to the side in thought. “Fine. I would like one thing more than to end his miserable life. Although, I still maintain that you would be happier without having to worry about your father showing up in your life again. So really, I would be fulfilling my top two aspirations at once.”

“Cas, you are not killing my dad,” Dean told him in a bored voice.

“Wait,” Sam said. “Is this like a conversation you two have had before?”

“Yes,” Cas replied. “But never with a satisfactory outcome.”

“He’s not serious, is he?” Sam asked, turning to Dean.

“I believe the term ‘deadly’ would be aptly applied here,” Cas said before Dean had a chance to answer.

Dean sighed. “Cas, stop freaking Sam out.”

Cas huffed and turned his body to face away from the others.

Dean rolled his eyes in exasperation. “He’s not going to kill dad,” Dean added. “Cas, tell him you’re not going to kill our dad so he wipes that stupid look off of his face.”

Cas turned his head a fraction. “I’m not going to kill your father today.”

“Cas,” Dean said, caution in his voice.

“I’m not going to make a promise I’m not sure I can keep,” Cas told him, turning fully to face him. “If he tries to hurt you again I will not stand idly by.”

“I’m not helpless, Cas,” Dean retorted. “And I’m not some stupid kid anymore, either.”

“I never meant to imply that you were,” Cas told him, placing a gentle hand atop Dean’s.

Dean sighed. “I know what your… _family_ can be like, but you can’t put my protection over what I’m asking you to do. Or not to do.”

“I know that, Dean,” Cas replied. “And I wouldn’t.” He squeezed his hand. “But as something is happening I don’t know that I would be able to stop myself.”

“What do you mean ‘again’?” Sam cut in, and Dean and Cas both jumped, having forgotten for a moment he was still there.

“What?” Dean asked.

“Cas said, ‘If he tries to hurt you _again_.’ What did he mean?”

“He didn’t mean anything,” Dean said quickly. “You know how dad was. You don’t think that shit qualifies as hurting us?”

Sam narrowed his eyes skeptically.

“Just drop it, Sam. He didn’t mean anything by it.” Dean had Cas’ hand in a viselike grip as he waited for Sam’s response. He couldn’t get into this right now. Not with their dad actually downstairs. He was having a hard enough time remaining calm as it was. And he was using the term calm very loosely. But if he had to think about it. If he had to think about all those times.

His breathing got shallow and his palms started sweating.

“No, Dean, I can’t just drop this,” Sam said. “Did dad hit you? Did he—“

“Sam,” Cas cut him off, his voice deadly. “Stop talking. Now.”

“But,” Sam tried to say, but at the utter venom in the glare Cas shot him, he stopped dead.

Cas turned back to Dean. “Are you alright?” he asked softly.

Dean grunted in response and squeezed Cas’ hand. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath before letting it out slowly. “’M fine.”

“Just keep breathing,” Cas told him. “You’re doing great.”

Dean kept his eyes shut tight and took another breath in before pouring it out. “Okay,” he said, eyes fluttering open. “I’m okay.”

Cas gave him a soft smile and squeezed his hand.

“Did you just have a panic attack?” Sam asked softly from where he had watched everything in wide eyed shock.

“No,” Dean told him.

“Really?” he asked. “Because it sort of looked—“

“Perhaps it would be best if we all just sat here in silence,” Cas suggested. “At least until our problem is resolved.”

The silence lasted for about two minutes before Sam opened his mouth again. “Is that why you always used to lock yourself in the bathrooms at motels? Were you having panic attacks?”

Dean closed his eyes and took a deep breath to calm himself. “We are not having this conversation right now.”

“But—“

“Sam,” Cas said. “If you cannot sit in silence then I’m going to have to ask you to leave the room.”

Sam bit the inside of his cheek and after a moment’s hesitation gave a single nod. “Sorry,” he added.

They remained holed up in Dean and Cas’ room for the next thirty minutes before Bobby finally opened the door and announced that John had left.

“But he’ll be back tomorrow. I told him I’d look into some of the stuff he was giving me.” He turned to face Dean who was staring at the wall with a blank look on his face. “I’m sorry, son. I didn’t know he was coming. I tried to get him to wait, but you know how he is.”

Dean snorted humorlessly. “Yeah. I do.” Cas squeezed his hand. “And sorry, but I think we’re going to have to cut this visit short.”

“’Course,” Bobby replied. “Good of you to come and visit in the first place.”

Dean stood up and marched over to Bobby, giving him a brief, but strong hug and leaving the room.

The three of them watched him leave, and Sam at least had the decency to wait for the sound of the back door slamming shut before turning to Bobby and Cas. “What are you guys not telling me about Dean?”

Cas sighed and stood up, looking around at the detritus of clothing they had left lying around the previous night before picking them up and throwing them into his and Dean’s duffel. “It is not my place to tell you. I have to respect Dean’s wishes.” He shouldered the bag and walked up to Bobby. “It was a very great pleasure to finally meet you in person,” he told him, holding out his hand.

Bobby took the proffered hand and shook it. “Same goes for you. You take care of that idjit.”

Cas smiled. “To the best of my abilities.” And with that, he also left the room.

Sam hardly waited until he heard Cas’ feet on the stairs before rounding on Bobby. “Why doesn’t Dean want dad to know he’s here. What happened between them?”

“I’ve only got suspicions,” Bobby said. “He wouldn’t tell me.”

“And what are your suspicions?” Sam asked.

“Same as yours,” Bobby replied easily. He sighed. “I should’ve gotten you boys away from him.”

Sam smiled. “That’s a nice sentiment, Bobby, but I really don’t think dad would have let you just take us.”

Bobby just shook his head. “I should’ve tried harder.”

Sam couldn’t help but to wish that something like that would have been possible.  “Come on, Bobby,” he said. “You did everything you could. I mean. A lot of my favorite memories are here. You, Dean and me when you just let us be kids. You did a lot more than you think you did.”

\--

“Oh my god,” Dean groaned from the driver’s seat of the impala. “What is taking Sam so long?”

Cas shifted into a more comfortable position in the passenger’s seat and said, “He’s probably trying to pry information out of Bobby.”

“That kid does not know how to leave well enough alone, does he?” Dean flexed his fingers on the steering wheel, his knuckles turning white from the strain.

Cas looked out his window. “To be fair, I think he has a right to know at least part of the story.”

Dean gritted his teeth. “No.”

Cas sighed and turned back to Dean. “I understand your reasoning for not telling him when you were children, but both of you are out of the situation now. You can’t be split up in foster care, your father can’t touch either of you… And he’s old enough to understand. He’s asking to know what happened.”

“I’m not reliving it again, Cas,” Dean told him, face hard and staring straight ahead. “It’s in the past and that’s where it’s going to stay. I’ve made my fucking peace with it and everyone needs to start respecting that.”

Hesitantly, Cas reached out, and when Dean didn’t flinch or pull away, placed his hand on Dean’s thigh. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I don’t want you to ever have to relive it. I would take all of your pain away if I could. But I think Sam has his suspicions and he doesn’t seem like the type to drop something like this.”

“He should,” Dean retorted. “It’s my fucking life. It’s my fucking past. I don’t owe anyone shit. If he wanted to know then he could have opened his fucking eyes when we were kids.”

Cas began rubbing soothing circles with his thumb on Dean’s thigh.

“I know, I know,” Dean sighed. “I hid it from him, how could he have known, blah, blah, blah.” He turned to Cas with water filled eyes. “It was so easy for him to think I was just getting into fights all the time, you know? That’s me. Big dumb brute who can’t go two days without throwing a punch.” He let out a bitter laugh. “Just some horny teenager beating one out in the bathroom while his dad and brother were on the other side of the door.”

“Dean,” Cas said. “I’m sorry. You don’t have to—“

“You know I was nine the first time he hit me?” he said. “Sammy was asleep. Dad had been drinking for…” He let out a long breath. “Oh, I dunno, since noon, probably. He had had a hard day. He’d hit a dead end looking for the thing that killed mom and he was frustrated. And I guess I was starting to look a little too much like her.” He closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the headrest. “He took care of that for me. He was real sorry about it in the morning. Kept shooting me these weird looks like he wanted to say something.” Dean shrugged. “But I mean, it wasn’t so bad. After that it was just for things that were my fault, you know? Like when I didn’t watch Sammy close enough, when I screwed up on a hunt. When I almost got CPS called on us.”

Cas squeezed his leg. “None of that was your fault, Dean. _None_ of it.”

“I know,” Dean said softly. “I’m still working on it, alright?”

Cas slid across the bench seat and took Dean’s face in his hands, looking at him with such sadness. It wasn’t pity, never pity. It was one of the things Dean loved most about Cas.

“Can I please kill him?”

Dean snorted out a laugh. “My answer isn’t going to change, Cas.”

“I know,” Cas said, stroking a thumb along his cheekbone. He leaned in and placed a gentle kiss on his lips.

 

\--

Sam stood just inside the back doorway, sure that Dean and Cas didn’t realize their voices were carrying through the open windows of the impala. It’s not like what he just heard was out of the blue. It was just a confirmation of his suspicions, after all. But it still hit him like a speeding semi. Especially since he never thought it had started so early. How had Sam not noticed? How could he have just accepted all of Dean’s lame excuses for where he got all of those bruises?

Sam felt like he was going to be sick. How could this… how could he…

He dropped his bag inside before going out to meet them at the impala.

“Jeez, took you long enough,” Dean said as soon as Sam walked in front of the car. “Where’s your bag? I said we were going.”

“I’m staying,” Sam told him.

“What do you mean, ‘you’re staying’?” Dean asked. “How the hell are you going to get home?”

“I’ll figure it out,” Sam replied. “Bobby asked me to stay and help with the research.”

Dean narrowed his eyes at him. “This wouldn’t have anything to do with you trying to pry information out of everyone, would it? Because I gotta say, man, Bobby doesn’t know anything.”

“It’s not about that,” Sam said. “I’m done trying to understand you. It’s your life. I shouldn’t try to butt in where I’m not wanted.”

Dean gave Sam a hard look. “What are you doing?”

“What are you talking about? I’m not doing anything.” Sam brought his hands up at his sides as if to prove it.

“You don’t let things go, Sam. What are you trying to do? Reverse psychology isn’t going to work on me.”

“It’s not reverse psychology!” Sam protested. “I’m just telling you that I get it, you know? Some people want to keep their secrets and that’s fine. So, you know, it’s fine.”

Dean looked over to Cas who just shrugged before looking back at Sam. “This is too fishy, I don’t like it.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “You wanted me to drop it, so guess what? I’m dropping it.”

“Okay,” Dean said, eyes still narrowed in suspicion.

“Okay,” Sam repeated brightly. “I’ll see you guys next week for dinner.”

“You’re really staying?”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Bobby asked for my help.”

“So if I asked him that, right now, he’d tell me that he asked for your help.”

After a moment’s hesitation, he said, “Yeah. Of course.”

Dean opened his door and jumped out. “Alright then. I’ll go do just that.” And then he took off for the door.

“Wait!” Sam called, lunging after him but missing by a hair. “Dean, wait!”

“Bobby!” Dean yelled. “Hey, Bobby!”

The two of them ran, all limbs and elbows, coming to a skidding halt in the kitchen in front of a very unimpressed looking Bobby.

“Did you ask Sam to stay and help you with research?” Dean panted.

Bobby’s eyes flicked over to Sam who silently implored him to agree. “Uh, yeah. I did, yeah.”

“Really?” Dean asked skeptically. “You asked Sam, who has been out of the business for five years and who has to be back at school tomorrow, to stay and help you research what’s probably going to turn out to be a wild goose chase.”

“Well, when you put it like that it doesn’t sound like the best idea,” Bobby admitted.

“Great, so he can come back with me right now,” Dean declared.

“Just because it’s not a great plan doesn’t mean I’m not going to go through with it,” Sam said. “I’m still staying.”

Dean spun around to face Sam. “You’re going to ask dad,” he accused.

“What?” Sam said, trying to feign innocence. “Why would I do that?”

“Because he’s the only other one involved.” Dean pinched the bridge of his nose and let out a huff of frustration. “You said you were letting this go.”

“I’m not going to ask dad what happened,” Sam said. “I swear. I’m just helping Bobby out.”

“Then do it over the phone,” Dean told him. “Now get in the car.”

“No,” Sam said. “You can’t just boss me around.”

“Get in the car or I’m putting you in the trunk.” Dean pointed a finger towards the door to emphasize his point.

Sam just crossed his arms and stood his ground.

Dean rolled his eyes. “So you’re just, what? Going to miss school this week working on dad’s wild goose chase? Isn’t this what you ran away from in the first place?”

Okay, so Dean totally had him there. But he couldn’t just give up. “Yeah, but this time it’s my choice to help. Bobby doesn’t think this one will end up a dead end.” He turned to Bobby. “Right? Tell Dean this one seems promising.”

Dean faced Bobby with a single brow raised in skepticism. “Is that so, Bobby? This new lead seems promising? Share with the class.”

Bobby looked between the brothers, a bit nervously, and said, “Uh, well. John seems more manic about this one than I’ve seen in years.”

Dean pursed his lips and nodded. “Right. So what is this big lead, then? Was it bigfoot?”

Bobby opened his mouth to answer, but Dean held up a silencing finger. “I want to hear what it is from Sam. He should know, right? I mean, obviously you would have given him the basics to convince him to help you.”

“I—uh,” Sam said.

“Thought so,” Dean said smugly. “Now get in the car.”

“Sam,” Bobby cut in before Sam could protest again. “Go home. Don’t get dragged into your daddy’s mess again.”

“But—“

“You heard Bobby,” Dean proclaimed. “Now get your ass in gear. Cas is going to be hungry soon and I want to put some miles behind us before that happens.”

Sam slumped, defeated. “How is he always so freaking hungry?” he mumbled while stomping from the room. He picked his bag up where he had left it by the door and ignored Bobby’s admonishment for kicking his door open. He’d feel bad about it later, but right now he had too many emotions vying for top spot and it was making him irritable.

He wrenched the door of the impala open and slammed it once he was inside, mad that Dean wasn’t out there to see. He slouched down in his seat.

“I know you heard,” Cas said softly. “I saw you at the door afterwards.”

Sam’s heart began beating a little faster. “Does Dean know?”

Cas turned around in his seat to face him. “No. I don’t want to make this car ride anymore awkward than it’s already going to be.”

“But after?” Sam asked.

“Dean and I don’t keep secrets, Sam,” he replied.

Sam sighed. “Dean has no problem keeping secrets from me.”

“He didn’t want to burden you,” Cas said. “And I suspect he didn’t want his life to be even more difficult than it already was.”

“That’s stupid,” Sam said. “If he had just told me then we could have done something about it, we could have—“

“He’s coming back,” Cas told him.

Sam bit his tongue and sat back in his seat. This wasn’t the end.


	8. Chapter 8

Dean was sitting on the bed poring over the applications Charlie had given to him when Cas walked in and sat down next to him.

“Maybe you should think about getting some reading glasses,” Cas told him, noticing how Dean was squinting with a paper an inch from his face.

Dean scoffed, offended. “Jeez, Cas, I’m not that old,” he said. “I just can’t read this dude’s writing.” He threw the paper away, where it spun gracefully through the air and landed on the end of the bed. “Next time I’m not accepting any handwritten applications. Online and typed resumes only.” He rubbed the heel of his palm over his eyes.

“Have you finished with everything?” Cas asked him.

“Yeah,” Dean replied. “I mean, Charlie’s going to kill me for not getting my choices in by Friday, but I think I’ve picked my favorites.”

“Good,” Cas said. “Because I need to tell you something.”

Dean turned to Cas with a slight frown. “What? Did you burn the pie?”

“Nothing so traumatic as that,” Cas assured him.

“Well then lay it on me,” Dean said. “As long as my pie is fine, I am fine.”

“That’s good,” Cas told him. “Because Sam overheard us talking earlier.”

Dean opened his mouth but no sound came out.

“I’m sorry,” Cas said. “I didn’t see him until after.”

“Why didn’t you say something?” Dean asked. “Why didn’t _he_ say something?” He turned and pierced Cas with a hard look.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “Sam wasn’t acting like he wanted to confront you about it and I thought that perhaps it would be best if we were in a safer place. I didn’t want your father to come back while you two had it out.”

Dean brought his knees up and hugged them to his chest.

“I’m sorry,” Cas said again. “Maybe he’ll drop it now. He knows you want to just put this behind you.”

Dean let out an unattractive snort. “You obviously don’t know the kid. He doesn’t give things up.” He shook his head. “This is why he wanted to stay with Bobby. He wanted to confront my dad.”

“Would that be so bad?” Cas asked.

“Of course!” Dean exploded, jumping up from the bed. “This shit is on _me_. It has nothing to do with him. But now he’s going to look at me weird. He’s going to look at me like I’m some dumb, broken _thing_ and I just—“

“That is not true,” Cas told him, coming over to stand in front of him. He attempted to reach out, but Dean smacked his hands away.

“It is true, Cas,” Dean went on. “You didn’t grow up with him, alright? When he was little,” a hint of a smile cracked his mouth upwards, but it disappeared almost as soon as it appeared, “I could tell that he looked up to me, you know? Always asking me questions and trying to be like me. I pretended it was annoying. Who wouldn’t? Everyone’s supposed to be annoyed by their little brother, right?” He paused. “But I fucking loved it. It made me feel good, to—to have someone think I was worth something.”

“Dean,” Cas said softly, but Dean ignored him and continued.

“But time went on. Sam started to see me. The real me.” Dean started pacing. “That light in his eyes just faded. I was just his stupid brother who was always in a fight, always jumping to do dad’s orders. Sammy started looking at me like he was ashamed, that he couldn’t believe he got saddled with such a fuck up. This is going to be just the same, Cas. Except this time it’ll have pity mixed in there. I can’t do that, Cas. I _can’t_.” He stopped and turned to face Cas. “Let’s move. Go somewhere no one knows us. Europe!” he declared. “I don’t know anyone in Europe. It’s perfect. And I fucking love Italian food. We could just spend the rest of our lives eating pizza and living on some private beach.” He paused and grinned. “Better idea: private island. We won’t even have to deal with other people because we’ll be the only ones there. I’m a genius.”

Cas heaved an exasperated sigh. “I could buy you an island if you really want it, but I know you won’t be happy living on it.”

Dean, overtaken by his idea, insisted, “No, Cas, you’re not getting it.” He grabbed Cas’ upper arms and shook slightly. “ _Private. Island_. Babe, you could keep your wings out _all the time_. We wouldn’t have to hide anything! Just you and me, Cas. That’s all I need.”

Cas forced a small smile onto his face. “My love,” he said gently, preparing himself to crush Dean’s manic façade, but at the pleading look in his eye he relented. With a sigh, he asked, “Would you like to pick an island, or would you like to do it together?”

Dean leaned forward and pressed a hard kiss onto Cas’ lips. “Together.”

\--

“Welcome home, baby,” Jess said when Sam walked in the door. He sank down on the couch next to her where she was curled up reading a magazine. They leaned in and kissed, although Sam’s part was much more perfunctory than anything. “What’s wrong?” she asked.

Sam just shook his head.

“Did you not have a good time? You sounded fine on the phone last night.” Jess threw her magazine onto coffee table and gave her full attention to Sam.

“It was fine,” Sam said. “I mean, I hadn’t seen Bobby in forever, so it was nice.”

“Then what’s wrong? You’ve got that little crease in between your eyebrows that means you’re thinking too hard about something.”

Sam’s lips ticked up in a smile. “It’s nothing,” he said. “I just found some stuff out about Dean that…” He sighed. “Well, that explains some things.”

She widened her eyes in a prompt to go on, but when nothing was forthcoming she nudged him. “What things?”

“Do you think I’m selfish? Or self-centered?” he asked. The long car ride back from Bobby’s had given him plenty of time to get over his initial anger and confusion and allowed him to think about how he had completely missed something so essential.

“What? No way,” Jess answered earnestly. “Who told you that? Did Dean tell you that?”

Sam shook his head. “Not in so many words,” he said, trailing off as he thought about how the words weren’t even directed towards him.

“What did he say to you?” Jess demanded. Her and Dean got along rather well, for the most part, but it wasn’t a huge secret that sometimes Sam and Dean’s relationship was still strained from their past.

“Nothing,” Sam said honestly. “But I may have overheard Dean talking to Cas.” He leaned over and rested his elbows on his knees, rubbing his hands over his face. “You know how I told you that Dean got into a lot of fights when he was younger?”

Jess furrowed her brow. “Yeah.”

“Well it turns out it wasn’t as many as he led me to believe.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means my dad was the one giving him those bruises.” He took a deep breath and exploded with, “And I _never_ noticed. How could I not notice, Jess? He’s my brother and I just—just let myself think the worst of him when really he was just trying to get by. And then I left him with our dad.” Sam shook his head and with a bitter twist to his mouth, added, “No wonder he hates me for leaving. I hate me, too.”

“Whoa, whoa, Sam,” Jess said, grabbing his shoulder and forcing him around to face her. “You can’t blame yourself for something like that. You were just a kid—“

“So was Dean. It started when he was nine, Jess. _Nine_.” He looked at her in horrible resignation.

Jess placed a gentle hand on his cheek. “And you were five. What could you have done?”

“I don’t know!” Sam said. “But something.” He sighed and closed his eyes. “I wouldn’t have just left him like that.”

“But you didn’t know,” Jess told him. “He didn’t let you know.”

“I should’ve seen it,” Sam said. “I mean, we basically lived out of each other’s pockets. How could I not have seen it?”

Jess stroked a thumb across his cheek. “Sam, you are the nicest, most selfless person I know. If you didn’t see it, then that just means he didn’t want you to see it.”

He looked up into her eyes, his own shining with tears. “What am I supposed to do?”

“Oh, baby, I don’t think this is something you can fix.”

“I can’t just do nothing,” Sam insisted.

Jess sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “Then talk to him. That’s all you can do.”

\--

Dean was avoiding all of Sam’s calls.

“Dean,” Cas said on Thursday after the third call in a row. “Maybe you should just talk to him.”

“How’s the deal on the private island going?” Dean asked instead, coming to plop down on the couch next to his husband.

Cas rolled his eyes. “I thought you were joking about that.”

“Come on, Cas,” Dean whined. “It’s not like we don’t have the money.”

“And what are you going to do about your shop? Benny’s? Our friends?”

Dean let out a dramatic sigh and leaned his forehead on Cas’ shoulder. “But Sammy wants to _talk_.”

“So you’re willing to uproot your entire life—a life we have fought hard for—just to avoid talking to your brother. Whom you love. And with whom you’re trying to rebuild a relationship.” He cocked his head to the side. “Am I getting this right?”

Dean groaned and lifted his head to shoot Cas a glare. “Must you always be the voice of reason? Can’t you just let me live in blissful ignorance for a little longer.”

Cas raised a single brow. “I spent all of Sunday night and Monday picking out an island with you. I let you pretend long enough.” He rubbed a hand down Dean’s back.

“But I don’t wanna,” Dean whined, laying his head back on Cas’ shoulder.

“You don’t have to speak to Sam about what happened,” Cas told him, planting a kiss atop his head. “But I would suggest speaking to him. If only to tell him to stop calling non-stop.” He paused and tilted his head to the side. “Or you could just turn your ringer volume off. In fact, why haven’t you done that?”

“I like the song,” Dean mumbled into his shirt.

Cas shook his head fondly.

“Tomorrow,” Dean promised. “I’ll swing by his apartment after work.”

“Wow,” Cas said. “An in-person conversation.”

Dean just shrugged. “If I call him it’ll be too easy to hang up. I’m getting this settled.”

“I’m very proud of you, my love,” Cas told him.

Dean kept his face hidden in Cas’ shoulder to hide his blush.

\--

“ _Hey, Dean_?” Charlie’s voice was tinny over the intercom.

Dean pushed some of the papers he had been poring over off of his phone and pressed the talk button down and answered, “Yeah?”

 “ _The ’64 Mustang was just brought in. Did you want to check it out or did you want me to send it over to Andy_?”

Dean rubbed a hand over his face. He would _love_ to go and check the car out, but he was drowning in paperwork for the new hires ( _plural_ , freaking Charlie). Why didn’t anyone ever warn him that owning his own shop meant he had to do all the boring shit like paperwork? He just wanted to get under the hood of a car and get to work. Leave everything behind and just let an engine speak to him.

“Put it in port three and tell Andy to take a look at it. I’ll take over when I finish with all this damn pencil pushing,” Dean finally said.

“ _Aye, aye, Captain_ ,” came the reply.

With a sigh, Dean looked at all of the papers strewn over his desk. He pushed the intercom button again. “Do you think you could order me some lunch while you’re at it?” he asked.

Charlie didn’t reply immediately, and Dean wondered what she was doing. His office didn’t look out into the reception area unless he left his door open, which he never did because he was far too easily distracted by the simplest things when he was attempting paperwork.

“Charlie?” Dean asked.

He heard the click that signified Charlie was finally going to respond. “ _I don’t think that will be necessary. Btw, if you start having lunch dates on the regular, I’m totally going to start inviting Gilda over on her days off_.”

Dean stared at his phone with a furrow between his brows until there was a knock at the door and it swung open, squeaking slightly when it reached the halfway mark.

“Hello, Dean,” Cas said in his deep rumble. “Charlie told me that you had a very boring day filled with paperwork so I figured I would come and distract you for a little.” He held up two brown paper bags. “I brought burgers. And pie, but only for after you’ve finished up.”

Dean grinned as Cas walked in and sat in front of him on the desk. “Have I told you lately how awesome you are?” he asked, taking a proffered bag and opening it up, getting a whiff of meat grilled to perfection.

“Yes,” Cas replied. “But you may do so again.”

“You’re awesome,” Dean told him, leaning up for a kiss which Cas was more than happy to oblige him with.

“Thank you,” Cas said. “I find you quite awe inspiring as well.”

Dean hid his grin behind a bite of his burger.

“ _Oh_ ,” Charlie’s voice came over the intercom again. “ _If you guys decide to have sex in there, please stay away from the intercom button this time._ ”

Dean choked on his bite and Cas blushed just a bit.

“That happened _one time_ ,” Dean insisted.

“ _Yeah_ ,” Charlie replied. “ _And trust me, that was one time too many._ ”

“We’ll move the phone,” Cas told her. And he did, moving the phone to the very edge of Dean’s desk.

“You going to fuck me over my desk again, babe?” Dean asked, the effect of his cheeky smirk lessened somewhat by the large bite of burger he had just taken.

Cas shrugged and pulled his own burger out of the bag and unwrapping it. “You have a lot of work to get through. I wouldn’t want to distract you for too long.”

Dean winked at him. “I thought that’s why you were here. To distract me.”

Cas leaned down and stopped a breath away from Dean’s lips. “With food,” he corrected. “The things I want to do to you will require more time than a simple lunch break can provide.”

“But that’s the thing, Cas,” Dean breathed. “I’m the boss. We can take as long as we like.” He leaned in to close the distance, but Cas pulled back.

“Finish your work, Dean. Then we’ll talk.”

Dean rolled his eyes and sat back in his chair, taking a huge bite of his burger. “Tease,” he muttered.

“I plan on it,” Cas told him.

Much to Dean’s chagrin, their lunch date remained chaste. Although Cas did stay and help Dean with all of his work, which he supposed in the long run was more helpful (as long as Cas wasn’t kidding about his plans for home). They were done within the hour and Dean decided to forego checking out the Mustang and get his confrontation with Sam over with.

“Did you want to come with me?” Dean asked with a put upon nonchalance that wasn’t fooling anyone.

Instead of answering, Cas pulled him in for a deep kiss.

Dean let out a shaky, “Thank you.”


	9. Chapter 9

Sam woke up to a pounding headache and a pounding at the door. With a pitiful groan he rolled over to make Jess get it, but her side of the bed was cold. He managed to crack one eye open to peer at the clock and realized it was past noon. Jess was at work.

He managed to push himself into a seated position, his stomach sloshing and head spinning. Jess had left him aspirin and a glass of water on the nightstand. Flashes of the previous night returned to him but there were definitely some gaps. He hoped he hadn’t been more of an ass than he could remember. He’d definitely have to pick up some flowers and maybe try and make dinner tonight. If Dean would answer any of his calls then he could get some pointers on the finer culinary art, but that’s what got him into this whole mess in the first place. He may have imbibed copious amounts of alcohol after the fourth straight day of Dean not returning any of his phone calls and dodging every one of Sam’s attempts to talk.

With a sigh that was more of a whimper of pain, he pushed himself to his feet and stumbled towards the front door so that he could stop the incessant pounding. He felt like he was living through one of Edgar Allen Poe’s nightmares. If there was a raven at the door, he was punching it.

When he finally managed to wrench the door open, it was to face the last person on earth he expected to see at his door.

“Hey, Sammy. You called.”

\--

“Just remember,” Cas told him once they were parked outside of Sam’s shabby apartment building. “You don’t have to talk about anything you don’t want to.”

Dean sighed and rested his head on the steering wheel. “You’ve never been on the receiving end of one of Sam’s puppy dog stares.”

Cas reached across and laid a gentle hand on Dean’s thigh. “Then close your eyes or look at me.” He squeezed his thigh. “And just remember, if all else fails we can always run away to our private island.”

Dean turned his head to look at Cas. “I thought you said you were just humoring me with that.”

Cas shrugged. “I figured it would be a good place to go on vacation. It’s not like we don’t have the money.”

Dean sat up and pulled Cas into a crushing kiss. “God, I love you.”

\--

“Dad? What are you doing here?” Sam asked, voice shaky not only from the tremendous hangover, but from worry.

“You called,” John replied.

Sam walked over to his couch and let himself fall onto it, rubbing his hands over his head. “That’s never meant anything before.”

John closed the door behind himself and walked in. “You said you found out where Dean is?” he asked, ignoring Sam’s comment.

Sam’s stomach sank. “What? I don’t know where he is,” he said quickly.

“The message you sent me last night. You said you had been talking to Dean. It won’t be hard to figure out where he is if you can get him to talk to you again.”

Anger bled into Sam. “Why do you even care?” he demanded.

“He’s my son,” John said, voice gruff in warning.

Sam’s head was still pounding, and it only fueled his anger. Which is probably why, without thinking through how he really wanted to approach the situation, he said, “I know what you did to him.”

John sighed and scrubbed a hand over his unshaven jaw. “Sam, listen,” John said, attempting to placate him, but he was cut off by a knock at the door.

Both of them turned to look at the door, and after a moment, John asked, “Aren’t you going to get that?”

The knock came again. Sam didn’t know who it could be. Jess wouldn’t knock, Dean wasn’t speaking to him (thank god for small miracles at the moment, he didn’t even want to think of how pissed Dean would be that Sam—however drunkenly—had called their dad). Anyone else would have called or texted him. He figured it was probably just some Jehovah’s Witnesses or something and crossed over to the door quickly to tell them that this wasn’t the best time.

But when he opened the door he was once again gob smacked by who it was. Dean, looking slightly sheepish and a whole lot defiant, stood next to Cas who was looking at Sam like if he put one toe over the line he was going to get fucked up. Sam sort of believed Cas could take him even though he had about half a foot on him.

“Now’s not really the best time—“ he tried, but Dean held his hand out and cut him off.

“Just let me say what I came here to say,” Dean said.

“No.” Sam tried pushing them back and closing the door on him, but then John walked forward. Sam saw the exact moment Dean noticed, his eyes shuttering and his posture straightening like he was in the presence of a superior commander.

“Dean,” John said, relief practically palpable.

The word, “Dad,” forced itself from Dean’s throat in barely more than a whisper.

Cas looked to Dean and then over to John and Sam unconsciously backed up a few steps at the absolute fury he saw in his eyes. And it was a good thing, too, because next thing he knew Cas had taken two steps forward and punched John who fell to the ground like it was a magnet.

Sam jumped forward to try and stop Cas who looked like he was going in to finish the job, but it was obvious it was only Dean’s hand on his arm that stopped him.

“Cas, no, you promised,” Dean said, his voice still a hoarse whisper.

“I promised I wouldn’t kill him,” Cas replied. “I’ll leave him with a pulse.”

“And just who the fuck do you think you are?” John asked through a bloody nose, shakily pushing himself to his feet.

“I’m the one who’s going to make sure no more harm comes to Dean,” Cas told him, his voice strong and clear, puffing himself up to his full height.

“Cas,” Dean said, tugging on his sleeve.

Cas turned around and deflated at the sight of Dean. “You’re right, I’m sorry.” He allowed Dean to pull him back to stand at his side. “Would you like to leave?”

“Now, wait a minute,” John said, trying to march forward, but Sam stood in his way so he had to settle for looking over Sam’s shoulder. “I’ve been looking for you for a long time, son.”

“Maybe you should have thought of that before you left me in that motel room,” Dean told him, not reaching his eye. “Let’s go, Cas.”

“Dean, wait,” John said, managing to push Sam to the side and going to grab Dean’s arm as he was turning to leave. Cas stopped his hand before it reached Dean and with a sickening crack John screamed.

“You will not touch him,” Cas said slowly, enunciating each word.

Dean swore and pulled Cas away. Sam heard him swearing all the way down the hall.

“Who the fuck was that?” John asked, clutching broken arm to his chest. “And what the hell was he?”

\--

“Dammit, Cas!” Dean swore once they were safely in the impala.

“I’m sorry,” Cas said. “I lost my temper.”

Dean ran a shaky hand through his hair and checked the rear view mirror to see if anyone was following them. “You snapped my dad’s arm like it was a fucking twig.”

“He did the same to you,” Cas spat.

“Yeah,” Dean said. “But he didn’t do it with _one fucking finger_. Fuck!” He slammed his hands down on the steering wheel, murmuring an apology to his baby a second later.

“I’m sorry,” Cas repeated.

“Yeah, well ‘sorry’ isn’t going to turn back time,” Dean said. “He made us, I could see it in his eyes. Now we have to move and just— _fuck_ —I really liked it here, Cas. This was our home.” His voice cracked on the last word.

“We’re not moving, Dean,” Cas told him calmly. “This _is_ our home and we will not give it up so easily.”

Dean shook his head with a bitter laugh. “And what are we going to do when we have hunters knocking down our door, huh?”

“I’ll take care of it,” Cas replied.

“What? You’re just going to kill them all? Not an option, Cas.”

“We’re not even sure that your father knows that I’m not human,” Cas said. “And besides, Sam saw me go through all of the tests at Bobby’s. He can vouch for me.”

Dean snorted. “Trust me, Cas. My dad won’t give a shit what Sam thinks. He gets something in his head and it doesn’t get out until he kills it. I mean, he’s been looking for what killed my mom my whole life. Didn’t matter that Sam fought tooth and nail the entire time, doesn’t matter that I begged him to just leave us with Bobby if he was going to get himself killed on a wild goose chase. Nothing matters to that man except for his perceived threats against family.”

They sat together silently for a while as Dean drove.

“Dean, that was the turn,” Cas told him as they passed the turnoff for their house.

“We can’t go home, Cas,” Dean said. “We’re going to have to find somewhere else to stay tonight while we figure out what to do.”

“This is ridiculous,” Cas said. “Are you telling me we’re not even going home to pick up some clothes?”

“No way,” Dean said. “Sam knows where we live. Dad’s going to be there soon.”

Cas blew steam out of his nose in annoyance. “This is ridiculous,” he muttered again. “We should not be running away from your father.”

“Yeah, well,” Dean paused and finished, rather lamely, “we are.”

Cas shook his head and crossed his arms tightly across his chest. “Give me your phone.”

“What?” Dean asked, taking his eyes off the road to shoot Cas a confused look. “Why?”

Cas rolled his eyes. “Because I left my phone at our _home_ which you will not let us go back to and I would like to call ahead to a hotel and make a reservation.”

Dean rolled his eyes and dug in his pocket for his phone.

“Thank you,” Cas said once Dean handed it over.

“Which hotel should I be headed towards?” Dean asked as Cas scrolled through his phone.

Cas merely held a finger up to silence Dean as he put the phone to his ear. Dean rolled his eyes and turned his eyes back to the road.

\--

“What do you mean ‘what is he’?” Sam asked as John made a beeline towards the bathroom to begin patching himself up. Sam followed behind him.

“Whoever that was just broke my arm like it was nothing,” John said, opening up the medicine cabinet and searching through it. “And his eyes glowed when he did it. That thing ain’t a human. Humans don’t have that kind of power.”

“Well, Cas obviously does,” Sam replied. “I’ve seen him go through all of the tests—silver, holy water, iron, everything.”

John eyed Sam warily. “You sure? You sure the tests were done properly? We can’t trust anything Dean has said about it, he could be under that creature’s snare.”

Sam snorted. “Snare? Dad, Cas is a good guy. He’s not tricking Dean into anything.”

John turned back towards the medicine cabinet and pulled out some gauze. “Sam, he just snapped my arm.” He paused as he rummaged some more. “Goddammit, don’t you have anything for a brace?”

Sam rolled his eyes. “I don’t know,” he said. “I might have a ruler in my backpack, but I tend to use this little thing called a hospital when I’ve been seriously injured.”

John shook his head in disappointment. “Both of you have gone too damn soft,” he said. “First Dean befriends some sort of monster, then you go and forget all of your training. What if something happened to you, Sam? What are you going to do? Roll over and die?”

“Well, I’d probably call 911,” he replied easily. “Let a medical professional patch me up.”

“Don’t sass me,” John told him, heat behind his voice. “Now find me something to fix up my arm.”

“Yes, sir,” Sam said and left the bathroom to go and rummage through his backpack where he was sure he had a ruler that would do the trick until his dad could find something better. As he searched, dumping nearly all the contents of his backpack onto the floor, his phone started ringing. Sam answered without looking at the caller. “Hello?”

\--

“Hello, Sam,” Cas said into the phone.

Dean cursed loudly and swerved over onto the side of the road. “Are you fucking kidding me?” he demanded, trying to grab the phone back from Cas who dodged his attempts easily. “Dammit, Cas, hang up the phone!”

“No,” Cas replied, making a smooth exit out of the car. “You’re being ridiculous and I wish to speak to your brother about it.”

“Cas!” Dean said, getting out of the car himself and slamming the door closed in his anger. “Castiel!” Did Cas not realize how bad this situation was?

“Apologies, Sam,” Cas said into the phone. "Your brother is being ridiculous. Is your father still there?” A short pause as he danced out of Dean’s reach. “Will you be able to meet us without him following you?” A longer pause. “Okay, good. We’ll meet you at our house in an hour.” He threw the phone back to Dean after he ended the call.

“What the fuck was that, Cas?” Dean shouted. “Do you not understand what happened? Babe, my dad is going to try to kill you.”

Cas snorted and made his way back to the car. “He can try,” he replied. “But there are only two things in this world that can kill me. One he’ll never find, the other he wouldn’t dare try.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that, Cas,” Dean told him. “You don’t know my dad like I do.”

“Well,” Cas said. “It’s all a moot point since he’ll never find out what I am anyway. Information about me is extremely sparse.” He opened the door and sat down.

“Cas, babe,” Dean said, walking forward and crouching in front of Cas, taking both of his hands in his own. “Please understand how serious this situation is. I know you think that human hunters are puny and lame or whatever, but you’ve never seen my dad when he’s on a mission.”

“Look at it this way,” Cas said. “If all else fails, we’ll just move to our island.”

Dean snorted. “We could always just skip the middle step and move there now.”

“My love,” Cas said, giving Dean’s hands a squeeze. “I’m not going to let you lose your brother again.”

Dean sighed and leaned forward to rest his head against their clasped hands.

\--

Sam hung up his phone and tossed it onto the table, running his fingers through his hair.

“Who was that?”

Sam startled and turned to see John standing at the foot of the hallway, his broken arm clutched to his chest.

“My girlfriend,” Sam replied. Then he tossed him the ruler he had finally found which clattered to the floor since John didn’t have a spare hand to catch it. “I forgot that I promised I’d meet her for lunch.”

John narrowed his eyes. “I think we have more pressing problems than your girlfriend throwing a little hissy fit over a missed lunch date.”

Sam gritted his teeth to keep back his retort.

“Where does that friend of Dean’s live?” John asked. “We’ll go scout it out after I patch myself up.”

Sam snorted. He had had enough time by now to get used to Dean being married, and the thought of them being ‘friends’ after how many times he’s seen their casual kisses turn into full blown make out sessions was pretty ridiculous.

“I expect you to be ready in ten,” John told him before disappearing into the bathroom.

Crossing his arms in aggravation at being bossed around in his own home, he followed his father. “I’m not helping you,” he said. “You are being paranoid and I’m not about to mess up Dean’s life because of it. You’ve done enough damage to him. Just leave him alone.”

“I’m trying to protect him,” John stated with the promise of a threat.

“Protect him from what?” Sam laughed. “His happy life away from you? I think he’s made it pretty damn clear that he doesn’t want you to be a part of his life anymore, and after what I found out you did to him, you’re lucky I’m not finishing what Cas started.”

John sighed and turned his attention to wrapping his arm tightly. “I know,” he said softly. “I’m trying to make up for the things I’ve done.”

“Then leave,” Sam said. “Leave him alone. He’s good. He’s great, honestly. And Cas is the one who got him there. I’m not going to let you turn Dean into your next crusade because you feel guilty about what you did to him. Hell, even if Cas was a monster, I’d sooner side with him than you.”

“Are you even listening to yourself, Sam?” John asked. “I know that what I did was wrong. And…” He sighed. “I’m not even asking to be a part of his life anymore. I just want to apologize, to make things right. And whatever his name is, Dean’s friend is not a human. Did you not see what he did to my arm? I don’t care how strong you are, no human can just snap a bone like that with a finger.”

Sam just shrugged. “Maybe he does Krav Maga or something.”

“Dammit, Sam,” John said, throwing the gauze he was wrapping around his arm into the sink. “I’m telling you that thing ain’t human.”

“And I’m telling you that you’re full of shit,” Sam replied. “You just can’t stand that your perfect little soldier broke free from you and now you’re trying to demonize the person who helped him. I’m not going to help you with that.”

John’s face hardened. “Then I’ll do it on my own.”

Sam sighed. “Dad, just leave them alone. They’re happy.”

\--

“I’m not happy about this, Cas.” Dean sat on their couch, his leg jiggling up and down with nerves.

Cas, who was relaxing next to Dean with what looked like no care in the world, simply replied, “Your brother assured me that he would be able to come without your father.”

“Yeah, well, he _assured_ me that he wouldn’t fucking call my dad and tell him about me. Look how well that turned out for us.”

Cas put a hand on Dean’s knee and squeezed. “I think we should at least let him explain what your father was doing there. He could have shown up out of the blue.”

“Or maybe Sam couldn’t just leave it like I told him and wanted to confront my dad about shit that’s none of his business.”

Cas slid closer to Dean and wrapped him in his arms. He propped his chin on Dean’s shoulder. “I’m sorry you are going through all of this again.”

Dean let out a sigh and let himself relax into Cas’ arms. “It’s just… I put all of this behind me, you know? It took a damn long time, but I did it. It was like, I dunno, like I was free or something. I mean, yeah, sometimes I had a relapse or something when someone came at me too fast or raised their voice too loud, but that had almost completely stopped. But now my dad is back. And he’s going to try and kill us.”

“You know I won’t let that happen,” Cas told him, holding him tighter.

“I know, babe,” Dean replied softly. “I just don’t want to deal with any of this. I want to go back to our life.”

“We will, my love,” Cas said. “We will.”

\--

Sam let out a groan of frustration as he tried yet again to usher his father out of his apartment. “I’m not going to tell you anything about them.”

“A name, Sam,” John said. “All I need is a name.”

“His name is Cas. That’s all you’re getting. Now leave because I have to go meet my girlfriend.”

“Fine,” John said. “I’ll work the case myself. It’s nice to know you care about your brother.”

Sam rolled his eyes as John finally left his apartment. Once he was sure that John had actually left, he checked his watch and sighed. He was already supposed to be at Dean and Cas’. He grabbed his wallet and sent off a quick text to let them know he was on his way before setting off, making sure to lock his door behind himself.

By the time he made it to Dean and Cas’ quiet neighborhood home, he was forty minutes late. He figured they’d understand since he made a quick detour to the hospital where Jess worked in case his dad was following him, which he definitely wouldn’t put past him.

Cas answered the door with a tired smile. “Dean is acting like a child and would like me to inform you that he isn’t speaking to you until you’ve explained why your father is here.” He stepped aside to allow Sam entry and after closing the door, added, “I must admit, I am also curious as to why your father was in your apartment, but I would like to hear your answer before I decide on further actions.”

Sam’s eyebrows shot into his hair. “Uh, well seeing what you’re capable of, thanks?”

“You’re welcome.” He led Sam into the living room where Dean was sitting with his arms crossed and a petulant look on his face like he had been put on time out.

Cas went over and sat next to Dean, pulling one of his arms down in order to hold his hand. Dean’s posture relaxed minutely. Sometimes it still baffled Sam how much his brother had changed. He didn’t know how Cas had done it, but he was thankful that Dean had him.

“Please,” Cas prompted, holding a hand out. “Explain why _that man_ is here.”

“Right,” Sam said. He stood in front of them awkwardly, like he was about to give a speech he hadn’t prepared. Clearing his throat, he started off with, “Okay, well,” and then all in a rush, “I may have called dad last night when I was drunk but I really didn’t think he’d come—hell, I don’t even remember calling him. I just woke up and he was at the door. And I’m really sorry, alright? It’s just—you—you wouldn’t answer any of my calls or texts, man.”

Dean wouldn’t look at him, but that didn’t stop Sam from noticing the way his jaw was clenched tightly in anger.

“Is he leaving?” Dean asked curtly.

“Uh.” Sam ran a hand through his hair. “About that.”

“Fuck!” Dean exploded. He turned to Cas and whipped a hand towards Sam. “See? I fucking _told_ you, Cas!”

Cas’ lips thinned and his eye narrowed. “I’m sorry,” he replied tersely. “I’m _not_ sorry that I broke his arm, though.”

“Goddamnit, Cas,” Dean said. “If you didn’t have this stupid overprotective thing this never would have happened.”

Cas took his hand back from Dean and shot him an icy glare of which Sam was glad to not be on the receiving end. “My stupid overprotective thing?” he asked, voice like ice.

Dean sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. “I didn’t mean that.”

“Yes, you did,” Cas said. “And I don’t understand why when _you_ are being overprotective it’s okay, but when I try it’s a travesty against nature just because of what I am.”

“Cas!” Dean spluttered, eyes widening to saucers.

“I’m not apologizing for what I am, Dean,” Cas told him.

“Uh,” Sam said from where he had been watching the exchange rather awkwardly. “Guys? What are you talking about?”

“Nothing!” Dean tried, while Cas calmly stated, “I’m not human.”

“Goddamnit, Cas,” Dean muttered, then with a raised voice added, “Why don’t we just tell the whole fucking world?”

Sam searched for something to collapse into, and barely managed to make it to the stuffed plush chair perpendicular to the couch Dean and Cas were sitting on. He figured he probably should be on high alert with the revelation that his dad was right about Cas, but he was just too flummoxed. He’d known Cas for months and never even suspected. Dean had known him for _five years_.

“I must say, you are taking this information much better than Dean did,” Cas told him. “He punched me in the face.”

“Hey!” Dean protested. “I’d known you for a day!”

Cas rolled his eyes. “Yes, but our souls had bonded.”

“That just freaked me out more!” Dean insisted. “I mean, I passed out drunk and woke up soul bonded to a stranger?”

“If I had any control over it, I would not have allowed it to happen while you were inebriated,” Cas huffed, crossing his arms tightly across his chest and turning away.

“Aw, Cas,” Dean said, tugging at one of his arms. “Come on.”

“How do you think I felt?” he asked, hurt lacing every syllable. “Excited to finally find my mate after so long of having given up hope only to have him reject me?”

“Cas,” Dean whined. “This is a five year old argument. Why are you still mad about this?”

Cas paused and allowed Dean to pull him into his side. “I’m not,” Cas replied with a sly smile. “But now you’ve stopped yelling at me for telling Sam.”

Dean snorted and shoved Cas’ shoulder. “You fucker. You are a manipulative bastard, you know that?”

Cas merely shrugged in acceptance of Dean’s statement and laced their fingers together.

Sam watched the whole proceeding, hearing their argument and subsequent makeup as if through a filter. His mind was still stuck on Cas not being human. But it wasn’t just that, it was seeing _Dean_ being this cuddly and protective over a monster. Maybe monster was too harsh, he didn’t really know what Cas was, but he didn’t think a monster would be rubbing small circles onto the back of his brother’s hand like that. That was something he did with Jess.

“Say something, Sammy,” Dean said. “I mean, Jesus, if you’re going to try and kill us at least give us a heads up.”

“I’m processing,” Sam said. “I mean, dude. You’re like the opposite of who you used to be.”

“Nah,” Dean said. “I’m the opposite of what dad wanted me to be.”

Sam sighed. “I don’t think I ever said sorry for not seeing past all of that.”

Dean shrugged it off. “You were a kid. I didn’t want you to see past it.”

“Yeah, but,” Sam stopped and ran a hand through his hair. “It must have been lonely.”

Dean threw on a grin. “What are you talking about? I had my snotnose kid brother to keep me company.”

Sam’s lips curled in a smile. “You know what I mean.”

He just shrugged again before he sobered his expression. “So, you’re okay with this?”

It was Sam’s turn to lift his shoulders in a shrug. “I mean, yeah, I think so.” A thought struck him then, and he turned to Cas. “You’re not a siren, right?”

Dean started laughing while Cas looked deeply offended. “I am not tricking Dean into being with me.”

Sam held his hands up in surrender. “Just checking. So, uh, what are you anyway?”

“Oh, it’s badass,” Dean assured him proudly.

Cas rolled his eyes even though there was a pink tinge to his cheeks. “I’m a dragon.”

“A—uh, what?” Sam’s jaw dropped. “Like Hogwarts?”

Cas shook his head in fond exasperation while Dean let out a howl of laughter. “I take back my earlier statement. You and Dean are reacting the exact same way.”

Dean nudged Cas. “Show him your wings.” He turned to Sam. “They’re _awesome_.”

“Wings?” Sam said, weakly.

“You just want me to take my shirt off,” Cas grumbled, but he stood and pulled his shirt off obediently. Two large and leathery wings unfolded from his back and Sam felt his jaw drop open. If this had been a cartoon he’s pretty sure his eyes would be popping out of his head.

“Holy shit,” he breathed. “You have wings.”

Cas tilted his head on its side. “Yes. We’ve established this.”

Dean snorted. “Smartass.”

“But you have _wings_ ,” Sam repeated as if the two of them just weren’t understanding what a big deal this was.

Cas’ wings shuddered before he sat back down. Dean leaned forward automatically to accommodate one of them wrapping around him.

“And you’re okay with this?” Sam asked Dean. “It doesn’t freak you out?”

Dean shrugged. “I guess it did at first. But now I like ‘em. And dude, the possibilities in bed are endless. The positions—“

“Okay!” Sam said, lifting his hands up to cover his ears. “I get it, I don’t need to hear any more.”

“They do provide extra stability for the trickier sex acts,” Cas informed him.

“Please, stop!” Sam pressed his hands over his ears. Dean and Cas just smirked at each other. Once Sam was sure that they were done, he lowered his hands.

“You a prude, Sammy?” Dean asked.

“Ugh, about your sex life, yes,” he answered with a scowl.

Dean chuckled.

“So,” Sam said after a moment’s pause. “You’re a dragon?”

Cas nodded.

“I didn’t even think those existed,” Sam said. “I thought that was just like fairy tale stuff.”

“Yes,” Cas said. “We like it that way. Keeps hunters from pestering us.”

“Pestering?”

“Well, it’s not like they’re a real threat,” Cas said. “No offense.”

Sam’s eyebrows shot up. “Hunters aren’t a threat?”

“Nothing can kill a dragon,” Dean said emphatically.

“Seriously?” Sam asked. “You guys are immortal?”

“Nearly,” Cas replied, shooting Dean a quick glance. “We’ll follow our soul mate into the afterlife.”

“Soul mate?” he asked. “Is that what you guys were talking about before? The bond thing?”

They both nodded and shot each other a quick glance with shy smiles.

“It was freaky at first,” Dean informed him. “I mean, shit. You don’t know how weird it is to trust someone instantly and absolutely. It’s like…” Dean pursed his lips and leaned back into Cas’ embrace. “One day there’s dad telling you to trust no one and the next thing you know there’s this person who you just _know_ to their deepest core without really knowing anything about them at all. I thought I was going crazy. One day I just woke up in some guy’s room and he’s telling me he’s my soul mate and oh yeah, a freaking _dragon,_ and instead of thinking the guy’s a nutjob, I trust him.” Dean grinned and shook his head. “I mean, it’s still weird sometimes. Like when I want to be mad at him but there’s this huge part of me screaming that I should go and make up with him.”

“To be fair,” Cas said. “Most people don’t bond immediately like we did. I suspect it happened so quickly because Dean’s inhibitions were gone and I was caught completely unawares. It happened before I even realized. Most humans are eased into the situation.”

Dean just shrugged. “I’m glad it happened the way it did. I don’t think I would have let it happen otherwise.”

“So you guys are like _literal_ soul mates,” Sam said, unable to keep some of the awed skepticism he was feeling out of his voice.

“Yes,” Cas replied. “And when Dean’s soul moves on it will bring mine along with it.”

“This is insane,” Sam told them. Then, “Wait. What if you died first?”

“He won’t,” Dean said. “Nothing can kill them.”

“What? Not even old age?”

“We live a very long time,” Cas said. “It’s a moot point.”

“Right,” Sam replied. This was like an information overload and on the one hand he had a million and one questions to ask about the lore behind dragons, but on the other he still couldn’t quite wrap his head around this situation. He was too close. Learning about lore, he had always been one step removed. Sure, he would interact with the creatures, but it was mostly to stop them from killing. And it’s not like he knew any of the creatures personally. (Well, there was that one he befriended when he was younger, but that friendship had ended almost as soon as it had started.) And this was _Cas_. His brother-in-law. His friend.

“So… just… wow.” Sam rubbed a hand over his jaw, the stubble catching on his fingers. “Dragons and soul mates. I feel like you guys should have a Disney movie made about you.”

Cas tilted his head to the side and studied Dean for a moment before replying, “Dean does share many similarities with Disney princesses.”

After Sam’s laughter subsided and Cas kissed the scowl off of Dean’s face, the three of them had to face the fact that John was now an issue.

“At least he doesn’t know what you are,” Sam said. “And honestly, I don’t think he’ll figure it out. Once he sees that you pass all the tests he’ll have to give it up.”

Dean snorted. “Sammy, in your whole life have you ever known dad to give anything up?”

“Well, no, but Dean, he can’t prove anything,” Sam told him. “And if Cas really is invincible then I don’t know what you guys have to worry about.”

“I believe it’s the pestering we’re worried about,” Cas piped up.

“Maybe we should just skip town for a while,” Dean mused. “Soak up some sun.”

“I do love it when your freckles become more pronounced,” Cas replied wistfully. “But I saw the workload you have at the shop. You can’t take an extended vacation right now. Besides, the house I’m having built isn’t finished yet.”

Dean grinned. “You’re building us a house?”

“Obviously,” Cas replied. “We’ll need somewhere to sleep while we’re there.”

“Uh, guys?” Sam cut in. “What are you talking about?”

Dean turned his grin to Sam. “You, Sammy, are looking at the proud owners of a private island.”

Sam’s jaw dropped. “I knew the restaurant was doing well, but…”

Dean snorted. “Cas is loaded, dude. All those hordes of gold.”

Cas shrugged. “Dragons are attracted to wealth.”

“You should try dangling something shiny in front of him,” Dean stage whispered. “Like a cat with a bobble.”

Cas smacked softly in the stomach, but Dean just grinned.

Sam was still trying to wrap his head around the fact that they were _private-island-_ loaded.

“Maybe we should try and talk with your father,” Cas suggested. “Or perhaps just myself.”

All humor gone from his face, Dean huffed. “Will you stop trying to kill my dad?”

“I wasn’t going to kill him,” Cas said. “I was only going to try and persuade him to leave. Sam can even come with me.” After a moment’s pause, with his head tilted to the side, he added, “Although, our situation would be completely resolved if you let me kill him.”

Dean flicked the edge of the wing that was wrapped around him. “Not funny, Cas.”

In the end, they decided that a meet up with John Winchester was inevitable and that they might as well try to do it on their own terms. They spend a while debating where the meet up should be. Somewhere too public and they run the risk of dragging civilians into something that could potentially turn dangerous if their father gets too overzealous. Somewhere they feel comfortable and it’s like they’re handing over information on their lives. In the end they decide on an abandoned barn about half an hour out of town that Dean always passes on his way to Bobby’s. They had bandied about the idea of taking the situation to Bobby, but they thought it better to keep him out of this. If anyone could find out what Cas was (and subsequently how to kill him) it would be Bobby. They were fine when Bobby wasn’t looking, but John would insist and it would turn into a _thing_ and as much as Dean and Sam trusted Bobby with their lives, they didn’t know how he’d react to a good “monster”.

Sam made the call. Dean refused to give up his number and subsequently have to change it. John agreed, and only yelled at Sam for a minute about lying to him about where he was going. Although, he did admit that he should have seen it coming.

\--

Sam swung by the florist on his way home. He had sort of made it up to Dean and Cas for his drunken call to his father, but Jess had been witness to the whole messy debacle of him actually being a drunk jackass. He figured that a bouquet of mixed flowers (he could pick out a Gerber Daisy and the pink roses, but he had no idea what the others were, just that they looked nice together) could be the first step in what he was sure was going to be a multi-step apology.

Their apartment smelled like garlic and tomatoes when he got back. He peeked his head into their tiny kitchen and saw Jess stirring a pot on the stove.

“Hey,” he said sheepishly.

She spared him a glance before turning back to the sauce.

“I am so, so sorry,” he said, holding the flowers out. “I was a major jackass and you are the kindest, sweetest, best girlfriend in the entire world and you definitely deserve better than some poor schmuck like me.”

Jess turned to him then with a slight frown. “You were definitely a jackass last night.”

Sam hung his head.

“I mean,” she said, turning back to the stove and continuing to stir the sauce. “I like to drink as much as the next person, but you went way overboard last night. You called your _father_.” She said it as if she couldn’t even believe those words were coming out of her mouth.

“Trust me,” Sam said. “I know.”

“You scared me last night, Sam,” she said with a shake of her head. “I didn’t like seeing you like that. And I don’t like that _that_ is where you went when Dean was upset with you.”

“I’m sorry,” Sam said again.

Jess finally stopped stirring, put the spoon down and took the flowers from Sam. “These are beautiful,” she told him. “If you wash the dishes and give me a foot massage later then I might just think about forgiving you.”

Sam let out the breath he was holding with a smile. “Anything,” he told her.

She turned to find a vase to put her flowers in. “So where were you? I didn’t think you had classes today.”

“About that…” Sam said, and went off into an explanation of how his father had showed up and then Dean showed up. Jess actually gasped. He left out the whole _dragon_ thing, obviously, but he spilled everything else.

“And you guys are meeting up with him tomorrow?” she asked after he finished.

Sam nodded. “Yeah. I promised I’d go, since it’s sort of my fault that dad is here in the first place.”

“And Cas seriously broke his arm?”

“Oh yeah,” Sam said. “Dad tried reaching for Dean to stop him and Cas got all intense and grabbed Dad’s arm and just—“ He snapped his fingers.

“Shit,” Jess said, torn between impressed and terrified. “I mean, is your dad okay?”

Sam snorted. “He’s had worse, he’s fine. Besides, I don’t have all the details, but I also think that dad’s done a lot worse to Dean, so it’s not like I feel that bad for him.”

Jess shook her head. “I still can’t believe all that. How’s he doing with all of this, anyway?”

“Well, he’s still pissed at me,” Sam said. “Which, you know, understandable. He’s pissed at the whole situation, really. He wants to just leave and not deal with it—speaking of which, did you know that they’re like _loaded_?”

“Uh, yeah,” Jess said. “They own the nicest restaurant in town. It’s got like four stars. I’m pretty sure it’s been on one of those Food Network shows.”

“No,” Sam said. “I mean like _loaded_ , loaded. They bought an _island_.”

“Seriously?” Jess said, eyebrows raised in incredulity. “Maybe you should ask them for a school loan. I bet they’d give you a way better interest rate.”

“Well,” Sam replied. “Seeing how I brought our dad back into his life, I wouldn’t bet on that at the moment.”

“I’m sure he’ll forgive you,” Jess told him. “You guys have come this far, I don’t think he’s going to ruin all of that because you made a mistake.”

“It’s a pretty big mistake.”

“Your dad was bound to find out sooner or later,” Jess shrugged. “He was always popping up sporadically when we were at Stanford. It was only a matter of time before he showed up here again anyway.”

“Sporadically?” Sam asked. “Have you been watching Clueless again?”

Jess grinned. “Ugh, as if!”

Sam snorted and shook his head. “I love you.”

“And I am majorly, totally, butt crazy in love with you,” she said, leaning in and giving him a kiss. “But you’re still doing the dishes.”


	10. Chapter 10

Dean rolled over in the cocoon of Cas’ wings and planted a kiss on the bare skin in front of him. Cas gave a sleepy grunt of appreciation and pulled Dean closer with his wings.

“Go to sleep,” Cas murmured. “We have a big day tomorrow.”

Dean let out a soft sigh. “Tomorrow’s going to suck.”

“Most likely,” Cas agreed.

“My dad is going to try and kill us.”

“He’s going to try and kill me,” Cas corrected him.

“Same thing, babe.”

“Well, either way he won’t be able to. No one even knows where the Sword of Bruncvik is, and I don’t know of any other swords forged in dragon’s blood that haven’t been destroyed.”

“I know,” Dean admitted, trying to burrow even further into Cas’ warmth. “I know I’m just being paranoid, it’s just…” He lowered his voice to barely more than a whisper and finished, “I’m still scared of him. And I know it’s stupid to be. I mean, I’m not some dumb kid anymore who was too afraid to stand up for himself, but…” He reached a hand up and grabbed Cas’ arm and squeezed. “I dunno. Give me a vengeful spirit or a werewolf and I’m fine. Pumped, even. But I see my dad and I just…”

Cas held him closer, maneuvering so that he could wrap both arms around him as well as his wings. “If you don’t want to go tomorrow—“

“I have to go, Cas,” Dean said. “I’ve gotta finally face it, you know? Besides, I don’t think he’ll back off until I talk to him. He told Sam that he wanted to talk to me and he’s like a dog with a fucking bone when he sets his mind to stuff. And this time I won’t just take it if he tries to hurt me again. And I’ll have you.”

“Always, my love.”

They remained awake for a while longer, though neither of them spoke. Eventually they fell into an uneasy sleep. Dean woke a few times from nightmares, clutching Cas until his heartrate returned to normal.

Both of them rose early the next morning, not out of necessity, but out of nerves. Even Cas didn’t seem to be as grumpy as usual before his first cup of coffee, but he did seem more on edge. He kept slamming his mug down a little too forcefully, sloshing coffee onto the table.

“You better not stain my new table cloth,” Dean told him, handing him a plate filled with eggs and bacon.

“Sorry,” Cas said, grabbing a napkin and trying to blot the mess up, which didn’t do anything besides soak up the excess liquid to reveal brown splotches on what was otherwise a pristine white and red checkered cloth. “I’m just not looking forward to seeing your father today.”

Dean snorted and threw himself into the seat next to Cas. “Join the club.”

Cas reached out and laid a hand on his arm, but Dean just forced a smile and shrugged. With a sigh Cas took his hand back and began to eat his food.

They ate in a tense silence, Dean picking at his while Cas devoured his whole plate and then swapped it out for Dean’s leftovers.

Dean smiled. “Hungry?” he teased.

“Usually,” Cas replied, his mouth still full.

Dean’s smile just stretched wider.

\--

They picked up Sam on the way to the abandoned barn. The car ride was silent aside from, or perhaps because of, the music Dean had blaring through the speakers.

They got out and stretched once Dean parked behind the barn. Cas was looking around himself like the universe had personally offended him, scowl on his face and aviators perched on his nose to protect him from the early morning glare.

“When did dad say he’d meet us here?” Dean asked, slamming his door closed a little more forcefully than necessary. He gave the hood a pat in a belated apology.

“He said he’d be here by nine,” Sam told him, checking the time on his phone. “We’re a little early, but I honestly expected dad to be waiting here with a trap or something.”

“Me, too,” Dean replied. “But we haven’t gone inside yet. He could be waiting in there with an arsenal.”

The three of them eyed the decrepit building, a dull reddish brown faded from exposure to the weather. The wood looked like it was rotting in places, some slats completely missing altogether. It barely even had half a roof left.

“I’ll go in first,” Cas said, striding confidently toward the doors which honestly looked like the most sturdy part of the building.

Dean held him back with a hand on his bicep. “I’ll go first,” he said. “He shoots you and you don’t die he’s going to have even more questions. He’s not even expecting you to be here.”

“And if he attacks you?” Cas asked.

“He’s not going to attack me, Cas,” Dean said. “He wants to talk to me.”

After another two minutes of squabbling they decided that they would walk in together, both trying and failing to be subtle about trying to edge the other behind themselves. Sam rolled his eyes and followed them in.

Turns out they didn’t need to fight at all since their father was nowhere in sight.

“Huh,” Dean said thoughtfully, looking around the empty barn. “I really thought he’d be here.”

“He’s got twenty minutes,” Sam said with a shrug.

Twenty minutes came and went with no sign of John Winchester. And then another twenty.

“Something’s up,” Dean said.

“Maybe he’s just late,” Cas suggested.

Dean shook his head. “No way,” he said. “Five minutes? Sure, whatever, he got a little lost. Ten? Unlikely, but I’d still let it slide. _Twenty minutes_?” Dean let out a snort. “John Winchester is never twenty minutes late unless he’s up to something.”

Cas turned to Sam. “Try calling him.”

“I have been,” Sam said, holding the phone up to his ear. “I’ve been trying for the past fifteen minutes. Maybe something happened. Maybe he found a hunt he had to go to?”

Dean chewed on his cheek as he thought it over. “I don’t like it,” he finally said. “Let’s go back home.”

\--

Dean sped the whole way home. He was sure he left marks when he turned onto his street, but his mind was far from caring about anything so trivial.

The sight of an unfamiliar pickup truck parked in front of his house sent fury coursing through his veins. He didn’t even remember to be nervous about seeing his father, let alone scared of him. No, he was pissed. Fucking livid. His dad thought that he could just invade his home. His and Cas’ _home_. Dean really hoped Cas didn’t suggest his usual way of wanting to deal with his dad because he might just be inclined to agree at the moment.

He slammed the door of the impala and wasn’t even in the right frame of mind to apologize as he marched up to his house with Cas right on his heels.

The door ricocheted off the wall when he pushed it open, but he ignored it and marched into his house.

John Winchester was sitting in his favorite chair, a gun in his hand. He was staring at a picture on the side table but looked up at the commotion.

“Get the fuck out of my house,” Dean spat.

John just gestured to the photo with his gun. “What the hell is this?”

Dean glanced at the picture. It was a shot of him kissing Cas’ cheek at sunset on the beach. It had been their honeymoon.

“It’s a picture,” Dean replied. “Now get out of my house.”

“I suggest you do as he asks,” Cas said from beside him in a voice dripping with menace.

John turned the gun to point at Cas who reacted to the movement with a snort of a laugh.

“I know what you are,” John said to him.

Dean felt his heart drop into his stomach as some of the fear that had fled in face of his fury returned. He couldn’t know, right? There was nothing in their house that would point to it. It’s not like Cas kept a journal where he poured his dragon-y little heart out every night. The only thing he had was a giant leather-bound book of his genealogy, but that was kept under lock and key and didn’t exactly state he was a dragon, just that everyone in his family had weird ass names.

“I’m the one who will protect your son with his life” Cas replied. “I’m the one who helped your son with the wounds you left him. I’m the one who will do so again. And I’m the one who knows that the only monster in this room is you.”

John narrowed his eyes. “Don’t give me that crap,” he said. “You kidnapped my son.”

“Kidnapped?” Cas laughed. “He couldn’t wait to get away from you!” 

John stood up from the chair, advancing on Cas with menace in his eyes.

Dean finally stepped forward. “Dad, back off,” he warned. “Cas didn’t kidnap me. He saved me.”

“That’s just what he tells you, Dean. He’s a siren, you can’t trust anything that comes out of his mouth.”

Dean burst into laughter while Cas scowled even harder than when Sam had suggested the same thing.

John continued, undeterred, “Though, I gotta say. I never knew a siren to stay with their prey for so long. What the hell does he make you do for him?”

 “What?” Dean said. “You can’t imagine that I could actually find someone who loves me? Cas has to be a siren because there’s no way someone like me could ever actually find happiness. That’s what you think, right?”

“That’s not what I said, Dean,” John told him. “But look at him. Last I recalled you weren’t gay.”

Dean let out a bitter laugh. “Last you recall I was laying on the ground after you beat me half to death for letting Sam go off to college.”

Sam, who had come in behind Dean and Cas and watched the proceedings silently, started at those words. “What?”

“Stay out of this, Sammy,” Dean warned loudly.

“No,” Sam said, coming to stand next to Dean. “You’ve kept me out of this long enough. I’m not going to stand by and watch dad try to ruin your life again.”

“I’m trying to save him,” John shouted. “Can’t you see what this monster has done? That isn’t Dean!”

Cas stepped slightly in front of Dean, but Dean pushed him to the side and marched up to his father. “Get out of my house,” he demanded through gritted teeth, “or so help me I’ll let Cas rip you to shreds.”

Quick as a flash, John dropped the gun he was holding and brought out a knife. Dean threw up an arm to deflect the blow and felt the blade slice through the meat on his forearm. Cas let out a snarl of fury behind him that drowned out his own grunt of pain and the next thing Dean knew he was being hauled back and saw Cas, wings bursting from his back, jump forward onto John.

Dean cursed and rushed forward once Sam helped him steady himself from being flung backwards. “Cas, no!” Dean shouted, pulling him off of his father.

A knife was sticking out of Cas’ chest when he stood. He looked down at the hilt and with a small grin pulled it out and let it clatter to the floor.

“What the hell are you?” John demanded from the floor where he was trying to push himself up with his good arm. He had a split lip and his nose was pouring blood.

“I’m his husband,” Cas told him, wings flaring, trying to push past Dean to go in for another attack.

“Husband?” John laughed, and Dean had to admit he thought that was pretty ballsy of him seeing as how Cas had already proven that he was more than capable of taking John down. “Dean, did this thing actually convince you to marry it?”

“Dad, I swear to god,” Dean said, still actively having to push Cas back, “if you keep talking I’m going to let Cas finish what he started.”

“Dad,” Sam stepped in when he saw John open his mouth to reply, probably with something scathing. “Don’t push it. Just go.”

John turned to Sam. “This thing got its claws in you, too, huh? You knew about him all along and you just let him have your brother?”

“It’s my choice,” Dean said, then turning back to his struggling husband, “Dammit, Cas, stand down!”

“He is insulting us!” Cas insisted. “Insulting our bond and trying to twist it into something abhorrent.”

“Cas—just—stop!” he finally shouted. Cas finally relented and stood there seething as he glared at John.

Dean turned back to his dad. “Will you get the fuck out of my house, already? You’re not welcome here. This is my home, the home I made with my husband, and if I see you here again I’m going to let him do whatever he wants to you.” He stood to his full height and tried to look as intimidating as possible. “Got it?”

“Dean,” John tried again. “That thing is a monster.”

Dean shrugged. “According to you, maybe. But he treats me better than you ever have.” He took Cas’ hand and held it tightly. “If I have to ask you to leave again, I’m going to let Cas do it.”

\--

Dean sat down heavily on the couch once his dad left. “Can we go to our island now?” he asked, closing his eyes and resting his head on the back of the couch.

Cas, who had just come back into the room with their first aid kit, walked over and took a seat next to Dean. He pulled Dean’s injured arm towards himself and began to clean it. “Anything you want, my love.”

“He drove away, so I think we’re good for now,” Sam said, coming into the living room. He sat down in the chair his father had been in and leaned over to pick up the picture he had been holding. “Where were you guys in this?”

Dean cracked an eye open to see what he was talking about before a slight smile spread over his face. “Hawaii.”

“It was our honeymoon,” Cas told him, moving on to taping a large piece of gauze onto Dean’s wound.

“You convinced Dean to go on a plane?”

“I can be very persuasive,” Cas said with a smirk.

“Okay, not going there,” Sam said, putting the picture down on a side table. A short silence followed before Sam cleared his throat and said, “I’m really sorry, guys.”

Dean let out a long sigh before sitting up, pulling his now bandaged arm back to his own lap. “It’s alright, Sammy. It’s not your fault that dad’s an asshole.”

“No,” he said. “But it’s my fault he came here.”

“Just let it go, Sammy,” Dean told him. “You’re just going to drive yourself crazy trying to blame yourself for the shit dad does. Trust me.”

Sam looked at Dean and saw the experience lining his face. He nodded.

Cas’ stomach took the opportunity and let out a loud growl.

Dean shook his head with a fond smile. “I’m not up to making your lazy ass anything, want to order in?”

\--

Dean got a call from Bobby just as their food arrived.

“Why the hell is your father calling me yelling about a winged husband?” he demanded in lieu of a greeting.

Dean looked longingly over to where Cas was paying the pizza man, his stomach growling. With a sigh he turned and walked into the kitchen, wedging his phone between his shoulder and ear. “Do we have to do this right now?”

“Dammit, boy, you better tell me what the hell kind of creature I let in my house and then give me a _very_ detailed description of why you thought that would be a good idea.”

“Is him being my husband not a good enough reason?” Dean asked.

“So you’re not even trying to deny it, then?” Bobby said. “Cas really is something?”

Dean pulled some plates down from the cabinet and set them on the counter. “Yeah, he’s a dragon.” There was a short pause. Dean even pulled his phone away from his ear to check and see if the call had been dropped. “Uh, Bobby?”

“I’m sorry,” Bobby said. “Do I need to get my ears checked or did you just tell me that you married a dragon? As in Hogwarts?”

Dean snorted. “Is that like a universal thing? Why is Hogwarts the first to come to everyone’s mind?”

“Dean.”

“Alright, alright,” Dean laughed. “You don’t need to get your ears checked, old man. Although for men your age I hear that a prostate exam comes highly recommended.”

“This ain’t a time for jokes, boy.”

Dean rubbed a hand over his face. “Yeah, Cas is _really_ a dragon. They exist. No, he’s not doing anything nefarious to get me to be with him.” He hunched his shoulders as he leaned on the counter. “I mean, you met the guy, Bobby. He’s harmless.”

“John says he broke his arm.”

“Yeah, well, dad had that coming,” Dean said, voice hard.

“Well, I won’t argue with that,” Bobby admitted.

“He’s still the same guy, Bobby,” Dean told him. “He just… has wings.”

Bobby promised that he’d withhold judgment until he did some research.

“Thanks,” Dean said. “Oh, and if you come across the stuff about the virgins, it’s not true. Cas had this one cousin.”

He heard Bobby snort. “I guess I’ll take your word on that one since I know Cas doesn’t have a thing for virgins if he went for you.”

Dean laughed and they said their goodbyes, Bobby promising to call him back when he was satisfied that Cas was safe.

Dean jumped when he felt hands wrap around his waist but he leaned back into the touch once he realized it was just Cas.

“Sorry,” Cas purred into his ear. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“S’alright,” Dean replied.

“Was that Bobby?”

Dean nodded.

“Does he know?”

“Yup,” Dean said. “My dad has pulled the cat right out of the bag and is probably showing him off to the whole hunter community by now.”

“Do we have to move again?” Cas asked.

Dean let out a sigh. “I don’t want to,” he said. “But if dad mobilizes the hunters against us, I don’t really see another option, you know?”

“I don’t think dad would tell anyone else,” Sam said from the doorway, holding up a slice of pizza and taking a bite.

Dean stepped away from Cas long enough to hand Sam one of the plates he had gotten down earlier, eyeing the long string of cheese threatening to drip onto his floor that he just cleaned.

“What makes you think that?” Cas asked, head cocked to the side.

Sam shrugged. “Dad likes to work alone for the most part. And honestly, like, no offense or anything, but I don’t think he’s going to want to spread around the fact that his own son is, you know, living in sin with a monster.” He flashed a worried glance up at Cas. “Uh—creature.”

“We’re not living in sin,” Dean insisted with a pout. “We’re married.”

Sam shrugged again. “I think god himself could have officiated your marriage and it wouldn’t really make a difference in his eyes.”

Dean sighed and rubbed his temples. “Fuck, I hope your right. I mean, if dad’s the only problem I feel like we could get away with staying, you know? Especially if we get Bobby on our side.”

“I could always just—“

“Cas, I swear to god, if you suggest what I think you’re going to suggest,” Dean cut him off.

Cas frowned. “You were threatening your father with the same thing earlier.”

Dean sighed. “Babe, I know dragons are big on killing people they don’t like, but you saddled yourself to a human. And I really don’t want killing my own dad on my conscience.”

“We kill monsters all the time,” Cas insisted.

“We’re not having this discussion again,” Dean told him. He grabbed the remaining two plates and pushed his way past Sam to get to the pizza on the dining room table.

Cas’ frown deepened but he followed in his husband’s wake. “Fine,” he said. “Then what do you suggest we do? Your father doesn’t seem the type to wait around. And you know he won’t hesitate to kill us.”

“I thought you said you were invincible,” Sam said, having followed both of them and taking a seat at the table opposite Cas.

“He is,” Dean stated, a little too vehemently to land the lie.

Sam raised his brows while Cas rolled his eyes.

\--

It was a week before Bobby called them back. Sam had eventually gone home to catch up on all of his schoolwork, but promised to be only a phone call away if dad came back, which, luckily, hadn’t been necessary so far.

“What the hell am I reading here about a soul bond?” Dean could hear the frown in Bobby’s voice.

Dean grinned. “So I see you managed to scrounge up some info.”

“Course,” Bobby said. “Now, answer my damn question.”

“Well, what do you want to know about it?” Dean pushed his chair back from his desk and kicked his feet up onto it. He was in a pretty chipper mood since he got to spend all morning under the hood of a car instead of holed up doing paperwork.

“You got one of ‘em?”

“Yeah,” Dean replied, his voice going a little soft.

Bobby grunted over the line. “Well, I guess that explains why you jumped into this whole thing so quick.”

“Aw, were you worried about me, Bobby?”

“Idjit,” came the reply. “When you first called me and told me you’d gotten married a year after you left your daddy, I thought you’d gone nuts. Not to mention all that lovey dovey shit you guys do whenever you’re in the same room.”

Dean let out a laugh.

“And that’s another thing.”

“What’s another thing?” Dean asked.

“You’re so happy all the time.”

“Why shouldn’t I be?” Dean asked defensively.

“Hey, I ain’t sayin’ it’s a bad thing,” Bobby assured him. “Just, after all the shit you went through I never thought it’d come so easy.”

Dean shrugged even though Bobby couldn’t see it. “I mean, yeah, sometimes it would be hard, you know, but… I dunno, I guess when you can literally feel how much someone else loves you, how much they want you around, how happy they are _because_ of you, it kind of makes it a little easier to smile in the morning.”

There was a short silence on Bobby’s end. “I’ll see what I can do about John.”

Dean exhaled in relief. “Thanks, Bobby.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he said gruffly. “Be sure the two of you come around more often now that you don’t have to worry about me finding out, will you?”

“Done,” Dean assured him. “You’ll be eating so many home cooked meals you’ll forget what tv dinners taste like.”

He heard grumbling on the other end of the line before it went dead.

Dean couldn’t stop smiling after that. He texted Sam the good news since he was in class, and then called Cas who responded with his understated excitement, as per usual.

“ _Yo, boss man_.” Charlie’s voice was tinny over the intercom.

“Yeah?”

“ _There’s someone here to see you._ ”

Dean’s brow furrowed as he clicked to open his schedule on his computer. “I don’t see any appointments,” he said.

“ _He, um, says he’s your father?_ ”

“Fuck,” Dean said, not into the intercom. He should have known his happiness couldn’t last. Living with Cas had definitely lulled him into a false sense of security about such things. He pushed the button down for the intercom. “Alright, I’ll be right out.”

He whipped his phone out and texted Sam what was happening. He toyed with the idea of telling Cas as well, but eventually decided against having Cas storm down here in a fit of rage and accidentally on purpose kill his father.

John Winchester stood a few feet in front of Charlie’s desk, looking both awkward and intimidating.

“Charlie, why don’t you go on home for the day? You can tell the others, too. I’ll close up,” Dean said.

Charlie and John both turned to face him.

“Are you sure?” Charlie asked. “I mean…” She shot a look that was obviously supposed to be subtle over towards his dad before looking back at Dean. “There’s still an hour left in the workday.”

“Positive,” Dean replied. “Get out of here.”

Charlie bit her lip but did as she was told. She stopped one last time at the back door. “I could totally stay, it’s no big deal.”

“Go, Charlie. Tell Tracy and Vic to call it a day, too.”

Charlie lingered in the doorway for another few seconds before finally leaving.

“Novak Restorations, huh?” John said, looking around the waiting area.

Dean shrugged. “I guess I’m not too creative when it comes to naming things.”

“You really took that thing’s name?”

Dean set his jaw into a hard line as he ground his teeth. “If you’re talking about _my husband_ , then yeah. Couldn’t wait to take his name. My idea.”

John sighed and wiped a hand over his face. “Look, son, can we talk?”

“I sorta thought that’s what we were doing right now,” Dean replied. “Although, I won’t make any promises for how much longer it’ll go on.”

“Can we sit?” John asked, gesturing to some seats lining the tan wall.

Dean went over and sat down in one of the chairs, crossing his arms over his chest.

John took the one next to him. “So, your, uh, _husband_ ,” John said the word like it physically pained him and Dean had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from yelling. “He’s a dragon.”

“Yup,” Dean said curtly.

“And you’re okay with that?”

“Yup.”

“Even though he’s a monster.”

Dean’s leg started shaking up and down, a nervous tic he’d picked up once he stopped punching things to get all of his frustrations out.

“I’m not trying to be the bad guy here,” John told him and Dean couldn’t keep in his snort. “I’m just trying to look out for you. I don’t think you understand just how bad this situation is, Dean. You should be killing that thing, not fucking it.”

Dean closed his eyes and tried to calm himself down. “Get out,” he managed to grit through his teeth. “Get out before I—“

Something was pressed over his mouth and it took him a moment to register that his dad was _chloroforming him_. By the time he realized he needed to fight back, his limbs were already too sluggish for the struggle and he fell into unconsciousness cursing himself for letting his guard down around his father.


	11. Chapter 11

Sam reached Dean’s voicemail for the fourth time and cursed. He had just gotten out of class and checked his messages when he saw that their dad had paid Dean a visit at his work. And now Dean wasn’t answering his phone and Sam had a horrible feeling in the pit of his stomach.

He changed tact and called Cas instead who answered on the first ring. “Sam.” His voice was tense.

“Oh thank god,” Sam replied. “Is Dean with you?”

“No,” Cas said. “But Charlie just called. Your father showed up at the shop. I’m on my way there now.”

“Shit,” Sam cursed. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.” But Cas had hung up the phone before the sentence was even finished. Sam cursed again and jogged over to his car, fumbling with his keys as he attempted to open the door. He sped his way over to Dean’s shop, the Novak Restoration sign coming into view just as Cas stormed through the double doors beneath it, Charlie following quickly behind him with an open laptop clutched in her arms.

Sam quickly pulled up in front of them and unlocked the doors. Cas jumped in the front seat and Charlie slid into the back.

“Are you sure I shouldn’t be calling the cops?” she asked.

“Positive,” Cas told her. “I will be dealing with this personally.” He turned to Sam. “Drive.”

“Do we know where Dean is?” he asked.

Charlie stuck her head between their seats. “North on the interstate.”

Sam looked at her blankly but she just shrugged.

“I hacked into the GPS on his phone. No biggie.”

“Drive!” Cas roared.

Sam and Charlie both jumped.

Cas clenched his hands into fists. “Apologies,” he said after a sigh. “Please drive quickly, Sam. I have an idea what your father plans to do and we cannot allow it to happen.”

Sam swallowed at Cas’ ominous tone and turned to the road.

\--

Dean was groggy when he woke up. Groggy with a killer headache. It took him a few moments to remember what happened and why he was tied to a chair. When he did he cursed.

“I’m sorry about this, Dean.” John Winchester knelt beside him, painting something on the ground.

“What the fuck,” Dean spat. He tried to see if there was any give in the ropes tying his arms, but he should have known his father wouldn’t allow for that. “Seriously, dad, what the fuck.”

“That thing has your head all warped,” John sighed, pausing in his painting to look up at Dean sadly. “I’m breaking your bond.”

The blood drained from Dean’s face and his breathing came more quickly. He felt the beginnings of a panic attack coming on and without Cas’ soothing voice he couldn’t remember how to stop it. The pounding in his head increased as he heard the rush of blood through his racing heart amplified tenfold in his ears. He couldn’t catch a breath, he was going to suffocate, he couldn’t get any air into his lungs.

A sharp sting slapped his face and cleared his head enough for him to see John standing in front of him. Dean gasped in a much needed lungful of air.

“Dean!” his father shouted, raising his hand to smack him again.

The image of his father sent him back to the motel the night Sammy had left. The yellowing wallpaper, stale smell of cigarettes and whiskey, the rough and tattered carpeting. He flinched in anticipation for the next blow but when it came the sting on his cheek was weaker than he had expected.

His eyes opened and he was back in the decrepit old barn, his father looking much smaller than he ever had before standing in front of him.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” John asked him. “I haven’t even started the damn ritual yet and you’re already freaking out. That thing must have its claws deeper in you than I thought.”

\--

Charlie informed them that Dean’s phone had stopped moving and gave them the coordinates.

“That’s the barn we were supposed to meet him at,” Sam said.

Cas grunted and glared out the window. Sam could tell he was debating ripping off the door to fly to Dean’s rescue, and honestly, he couldn’t exactly blame him. “This is too confining,” he finally said. “I should have flown.”

Sam’s eyes opened wide as he flicked his eyes back to see Charlie’s reaction.

“Dean’s going to be fine, Cas,” Charlie tried to soothe him. “And I don’t really think he’d appreciate being rescued to be told that you two had to move.”

Sam’s jaw nearly dropped to the floor. “Wait, you know?”

He saw Charlie roll her eyes in the rear view mirror. “Please. He likes his meat so rare it’s practically still alive. Besides, I’ve totally seen him breathe fire. It was both terrifying and amazing.”

“Can we please focus on going _faster_ ,” Cas cut in.

Sam shook himself out of his momentary shock and looked down at the speedometer. “Cas, my foot is literally to the floor. My car doesn’t go faster than this.”

Cas snorted out a few sparks and increased the intensity of his glare.

“We’re almost there,” Charlie tried to reassure him. “Just like five more minutes. We can think of a plan of attack.”

“I fly in, I attack,” Cas stated succinctly.

“Fair enough,” Charlie said, sinking back into her seat.

\--

“Dad, you can’t do this!” Dean tried yet again, but his father continued to ignore him, chanting something from a large leather tome. “Dad, I swear he’s not doing anything to me. I love him, okay! I love—“

John slammed the book in his hands shut with a huge clap. “You’ll come to your senses soon, son, don’t worry.”

“It’s not going to work,” Dean told him. “You need a willing party to break a bond. Just let me go.” He tried flexing in his bonds again, but there was still no give. He let out a frustrated shout. Looking over to his father who was now rummaging around in a black duffel bag placed just inside the large circle he had painted on the ground, he said, “Please, dad. I have literally never asked you for anything in my life. I did everything you ever asked me. Just please, _please_ , do this one thing for me. Just let me live my life.”

John stood and walked over to Dean, a handkerchief dangling from his hand. “That’s what I’m doing for you, son,” he said. “I’m giving you your life back.”

Dean opened his mouth to argue again, but was cut off by John roughly tying the cloth around his mouth in a makeshift gag. Dean’s screamed out some choice curses but they were now muffled.

\--

Sam practically flew into the dirt lot, skidding to a halt next to John’s pick-up truck. Cas was already jumping out of the car before it came to a complete stop, his wings tearing his shirt to shreds as they burst from his back.

“Stay here,” Sam told Charlie before chasing after Cas, leaving the car running in his haste. He ran, slipping in the dirt, but managing to stay on his feet as he saw Cas disappear into the decrepit barn. He was only seconds behind and therefore saw the exact moment that Cas bounced off of some invisible barrier, the rebound sending him crashing into and through a wall of the barn.

Sam barely paused to watch his trajectory, too focused on getting to his brother. Whatever had kept Cas out obviously only worked on dragons since Sam passed whatever barrier there was with ease, skidding to a stop in front of Dean who was struggling frantically to escape his bonds.

Immediately, Sam dropped to his knees and began working on untying the ropes chafing against Dean’s wrists.

 “Leave him, Sam.”

Sam turned to see his dad standing against one of the walls, a large leather bound book in his hand.

“Why are you doing this?” Sam demanded.

“Get away from him, Sam,” John said. “This is for his own good. That thing got in his head and messed with it. Do you really think he’d be with a monster?”

“Cas isn’t a monster.” He kept working on the knots, but his dad knew how to make them nearly impossible to undo. He couldn’t believe that he forgot to bring his pocket knife. He managed to barely loosen one of Dean’s arms when he heard shifting wood behind him and then Cas’ panicked voice.

“Sam, undo the sigils on the ground.”

Sam looked down and saw twisting red symbols covering the floor, but before he could make a move to do as Cas had asked, he found his arms locked behind his back.

“We’re going to save him,” John said into his ear. “Just help me, son.”

“What are you doing to him?” Sam demanded. He could see Cas pacing the perimeter of the circle, wings flared out as far as they would go, and was that— _steam_ pouring out of his nose. He knew the situation wasn’t humorous in the slightest, but oh my god, Cas actually had _steam coming out of his nose_. He would have to remember to laugh about that later.

“I’m breaking the bond that thing has with him,” John said. “After that Dean’ll snap out of this. Don’t you want him to be free?”

Sam didn’t respond and he saw the stress on Cas’ face double. “I’m not tricking Dean into anything, Sam!” he shouted. “Your brother consented to this bond!”

But that wasn’t quite right, was it? Hadn’t they fought about Dean waking up to an already formed bond? Could it be messing with Dean’s head? Could Dean’s happiness really all be a lie?

Sam looked over to Dean who was trying to shout something through his gag, still struggling to free himself.

“Sam, please,” Cas implored, voice shaking. “The bond doesn’t invalidate Dean’s will.”

“Then what’s the big deal if it’s broken?” Sam asked.

Cas let out a roar of anguish. “You can’t break a bond without a willing party!”

“Wait, what?” Sam asked. “Well, then it won’t work, right? It doesn’t matter.”

Cas roared, flames spurting out of his mouth, hitting an invisible barrier around them and flicking up towards the rotting roof of the barn. “Forcing a break will shatter our souls. Best case scenario we die in the process.”

“Don’t listen to it, Sam,” John told him. “You know you can’t trust a word it says. We do this and Dean is free. That’s what you want for him, right?”

Sam thought about it. He needed to figure out who was telling the truth. It didn’t really take him too long. Actions speak louder than words, right?

“Okay, dad,” Sam said. “What do we do?”

Cas actually let out an ear splitting roar at that, and when Sam looked over he saw that Cas’ fingers had extended into wicked looking claws and his torso was literally erupting in scales that drew up to his neck. The sight gave Sam pause and a moment’s indecision, but he pushed the doubt aside quickly.

“That’s my boy,” John said, and released his grip on Sam’s arms. He walked over and picked up the large leather tome he had been holding before and began flipping through the pages. “Now that the dragon is here we can finally finish the ritual. Go and make sure your brother is secure. The break can cause a physical reaction.”

“You swear it’s not going to hurt him?” Sam asked.

John nodded. “I swear, Sam. Deep down Dean wants this bond broken. This’ll work.”

Sam nodded and made his way back to Dean. He knelt down and began working on the ropes around Dean’s wrist. “I’m sorry, Dean,” he said loudly. “But Dad’s right. You’re not the same person you were before.”

Dean just shouted and struggled harder.

“I hope you realize neither of you will be leaving this place alive,” Cas growled, still pacing the perimeter.

John snorted. “I’ll take care of you next.”

\--

Dean couldn’t believe what was happening. What the hell had these past months meant to Sam if he was just going to throw it all away at a moment’s notice? He cursed through his gag and tried his hardest to break free before Sam could retighten the ropes. His wrists were chafed to the point of bleedingby now, but he hardly even noticed. He had to get out, he couldn’t let his dad break his bond with Sam, he—

He noticed that the rope Sam was working on was getting looser instead of tighter.

Sam caught his eye and gave him a _look_ , one which clearly meant, _keep playing along_.

Dean doubled his efforts in shouting his head off and attempting escape while trying to keep the hand Sam was actually working on as stationary as possible to help him out. He just wished he could let Cas in on the plan since he was pacing the perimeter and staring at Sam like he couldn’t wait to rip him apart.

“You done yet, Sam?” John asked. “How long does it take to retie a knot?”

Sam flashed Dean and apologetic look before standing and walking back over to their father.

Dean felt the give in the rope and tried twisting and turning his hand which was slowly starting to slip free. But he didn’t think he’d be able to do it in time to stop his dad.

He looked over to Cas, a stricken expression on his face as he began to feel his bond start to vibrate. Cas was staring back at him with the same look. Whatever his dad was doing was working. He didn’t know how they were going to stop this.

But then from behind Cas he saw a streak of red as Charlie shot forward. Dean would wonder what the hell she was doing here and be pissed that she had put herself in this much danger later, but at the moment he could practically hear a choir of angels singing in the distance as she skid to a halt and began scraping at the sigils on the ground with a small knife.

John noticed a moment too late, shouting at Charlie just as Cas felt the barrier fall away and grinned as he spread his wings to their full length before launching himself straight at John.

Charlie hurried over to Dean and began sawing at his restraints with the knife she had.

“Found this in the glove compartment,” she informed him. “I saw the fire shoot out of the roof and figured shit was going down so I better come help.”

His wrist finally free, Dean yanked the gag out of his mouth.

“Cas!” he shouted, his voice hoarse from overuse.

Cas, who had John and Sam both in a chokehold in either hand, paused to look over at Dean.

“Sam—“ he said, clearing his throat to hopefully make it louder. “He’s good. He was helping us.”

Cas turned narrowed eyes on Sam who was scrabbling at the hand around his neck. “Apologies,” he said and dropped him down to the ground.

Gasping for breath, Sam rubbed at his neck. “Yeah, no worries,” he managed.

Cas turned back to John Winchester and looked intent on finally making good on his numerous threats.

“Cas,” Dean said. “

“He tried to kill us, Dean,” Cas replied without looking over. “He tried to kill _you_. That’s not something I can forget so easily.”

John tried fruitlessly to pull Cas’ hand from around his neck, his eyes bugging out as the life was choked from him.

“Cas, please,” Dean said.

Cas deflated with a sigh and dropped John to the floor. He turned around to face Dean who was finally free from the chair thanks to Charlie’s continued efforts.

“If he _ever_ comes near us again, Dean—“

Dean nodded and stood on shaky feet. “I know, babe. Come ‘ere.”

The fury melted out of Cas and he began walking towards Dean, expression lightening with each step he took. He didn’t manage to take many, however, before he roared and fell to his knees.

Dean saw his father standing behind Cas, broken and bloody sword raised for another strike.

“No!” Dean shouted, and with a roar of his own, ran to his husband. He was too far, he wasn’t going to get there in time to stop his dad, but then Sam came running and tackled their father to the ground.

Dean slid to his knees in front of Cas and hesitantly reached his hands out, unsure of where he had been injured.

“I’ll be fine,” Cas gritted through his teeth. “I—I don’t think it hit anything vital.”

Dean let out a choked sob in relief and hugged Cas tightly to him. “Scared the shit outta me, man.”

He could hear Cas’ smile as he replied weakly, “The same could be said for you.”

Dean couldn’t help it, he laughed.

“Uh, guys?”

They both looked over to Charlie who was standing awkwardly next to the chair she had just saved Dean from.

“Not that I’m not super relieved and all, but this place is kind of on fire.”

The two of them looked up to where the roof (or what was left of it) was indeed engulfed in flames.

“What do we do with him?” Sam asked, pointing to their father who had been knocked out when Sam tackled him to the ground.

Cas spewed out a flame. “Leave him. He can have a hunter’s funeral.”

Dean sighed. “He’s not dead, Cas.”

“Not yet.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “I guess we should get him out of here before the roof collapses.”

Sam nodded and bent down in an attempt to pick his dad up. “I could use a little help,” he said.

Dean turned to Cas. “You healing up alright?” he asked. “Think you’ll be able to get out of here on your own?”

Cas nodded, but swayed when Dean let go of him. Charlie rushed forward to take Dean’s place.

“I’ll help him out,” she assured them both. “Go help Sam.”

Dean looked hesitant, but at Cas’ nod agreed.

With the two of them shouldering their father’s weight, Dean and Sam managed to drag him to the safety of outside before the decrepit roof finally collapsed, bringing the rest of the barn with it. They deposited their father in the bed of his pick up and went over to Sam’s car where Charlie was fussing over Cas.

“I think we should take you to a hospital,” Charlie said.

Dean looked down and saw that both of them had bloody hands pressed to Cas’ side to staunch the flow of blood.

“I thought you said you were healing,” Dean accused, rushing forward to add his hands into the mix, accidentally bumping Charlie out of the way.

“It turns out your father somehow found the Sword of Bruncvik.”

“Shit,” Dean cursed, adding more pressure. “Sam, get us to the hospital.”

“I’ll be fine, Dean,” Cas insisted through a grimace. “I’ll survive.”

“Cas, you’ve been stabbed!”

Cas shot him an icy glare. “I’m aware, Dean. It will heal. It might just take a little longer to do so.”

“Fuck that,” Dean said. “I’m at least stitching you up, come here, sit.” He pushed Cas down into the back of Sam’s car. “You got a first aid kit, Sammy?” he asked.

Sam shook his head. “No, but I bet dad does,” he replied, already walking over to his father’s truck. He returned a few moments later, chucking a small bag towards Dean.

“I’m fine,” Cas tried to insist after Dean had sterilized a hook needle with his lighter. “This is completely unnecessary.”

“It’s for my peace of mind, Cas,” Dean told him. “Besides, you’re losing blood. You’re looking paler than Charlie over there.”

“Hey,” Charlie protested. “It’s called being fair-skinned. And it comes with the territory of being a badass redhead, alright?”

They left as soon as Dean was finished, Dean still fussing over Cas in the backseat. They saw fire engines, lights and sounds blaring, heading in the opposite direction once they got on the highway and figured someone must have seen the blaze and called it in. They would later find out from Bobby that their father had been taken into custody for questioning about the blaze, and eventually to prison when they discovered half a dozen warrants for his arrest. It wasn’t a perfect solution to their problem, but it was a nice little band-aid until they came up with something better.

“I would very much like to know how your father got a hand on the Sword of Bruncvik,” Cas said, resting his head on Dean’s shoulder.

“My dad could find a needle in a stack of needles, Cas.”

“I imagine that would be quite easy,” he replied.

Dean rolled his eyes. “I meant a specific needle, jackass.”

Cas grinned for a moment before the next throb of pain shot through him and his face sobered. “I did not like today.”

“You talking about me getting kidnapped or you getting stabbed?”

Cas glared. “Both.”

Dean shrugged. “Yeah, well. At least it’s over. And you know, the day started out good. Bobby gave us his blessing, scales and all. So it was just the middle that sucked ass.”

“A lot of ass,” Cas agreed.

“A lot of ass,” Dean echoed.

“I think I’ll make some calls tomorrow,” Cas said, closing his eyes and making himself more comfortable against Dean’s side. “See if they can speed up construction for our island. I believe we deserve a vacation.”

\--

In the end they waited to go on vacation until Sam was done with school for the year and surprised him and Jess with an island getaway. He tried inviting Charlie and Gilda, but Gilda beat him to the punch by surprising Charlie with tickets to the San Diego Comic-Con, so in the end it wasn’t really a choice for her.

“Dude,” Sam said. “This—this is a lot, I don’t know if I can—“

“Sammy, I swear to god, if you don’t accept this I’m going to take a page out of dad’s book and kidnap you. Except, you know, when you wake up you’ll be on a beautiful island instead of in a shitty old barn.”

He eventually accepted. And now he and Jess were back in their bungalow, sleeping off the huge meal Dean had cooked for dinner.

Dean and Cas, on the other hand, were lying on the white sand, listening to the ebb and flow of the water licking at their feet and staring up at the explosion of stars in the sky. Well, they were pretending to look up at the sky, they both kept getting distracted by the sight of the other.

“I love you,” Dean said with all the sincerity he could muster.

Cas smiled and looked away from the stars to face his universe. “I know.”

Dean smacked him in the arm, though he couldn’t keep the smile off of his face. “You’re such a jerk,” he said. “Can’t you ever let me be Han?”

“Hmm,” Cas pretended to ponder, rolling onto his side to face Dean. “I suppose your brother is practically as tall as Chewbacca.”

“Hairy enough, too,” Dean snorted.

“I suppose I’ll allow it,” Cas said. “But only because I love you so much.”

Dean smiled. “Get over here,” he said, grabbing Cas by the shoulders and pulling until he was lying on top of him.

Sam discovered them the next morning, clothes strewn around their sleeping forms. He’d never been gladder that Cas had wings since they were covering up everything that would have scarred him for life. Not that the noises coming from the beach last night hadn’t already done the trick.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So there it is! I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it!! My tumblr is [ireadhpinenochian](http://ireadhpinenochian.tumblr.com/) in case you wanted to know. You'll find out I'm basically just deancas trash, lol. And here's the [art masterpost](http://ambersagen.tumblr.com/post/133784953944/my-art-masterpost-for-the-dcbb-art-by-ambersagen) so that you can stare at those cute drawings all day long like me, lol.


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